


Professor Muggle

by Beene



Series: The Professor Muggle Series [1]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Multi, Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2012-08-04
Packaged: 2017-11-09 14:48:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 124,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/456701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beene/pseuds/Beene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hank Boyd found himself teaching Muggle Studies wondering how he was going to make it through. He's just been dumped, wasn't getting any younger and has no magic. Luckily his friends Neville Longbottom and George Weasley are there to help.  Oh yeah, and anti-Muggle wizards want to kill him.  A view of Hogwarts and its famous former students from a different perspective.</p>
<p>First work in a larger story series</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. So Hank, You're a Muggle?

**Chapter 1: So Hank, You’re a Muggle?**

 

_Hogwarts, 2004_

So somehow I realized I was sitting in a big green chair and looking out of a castle window.  A castle.  The night had cooled rapidly; even though it was still technically summer, the first week of August to be exact, the combination of elevation and strangeness made it seem colder.  Maybe it was just a trick of the mind, but then again everything seemed so…what was the word?  ‘Other’ was the only thing that came to mind.  There was another world that existed right alongside my ‘real’ world and nobody even knew it.  There were no fire engines, police sirens, car traffic…none of the things that said ‘I am living in the modern city.’  Instead the lamps slowly illuminated themselves, the flames starting in slow trickles but growing stronger until the entire room was illuminated.

 

“Rooms.”  I remember saying that part out loud, to my unpacked luggage and stacks of books.  A robe hung on the door of the wardrobe, an official robe according to Longbottom, not an everyday one.  Longbottom…man the English have odd names.  _Everyday robes?_  It just kept getting weirder, but at least I remembered a bottle of scotch.  But then the thought came that if I was going to have a drink, though, I really needed a glass.  And ice.  _Where do they get ice?_   I just needed one cube for the drink.  They way everything had been in the last few days, especially lately, though, I would probably need more than one drink.  _Water?  What about a small pitcher of water?_

 

A knock on the door erased those questions from my mind.

 

“Professor Boyd?  I hope I’m not intruding.”  The tall, dark-haired man poked his head in the door, looking as if disturbing someone would be the absolute last thing he would wish to do.

 

“Of course not, Mr. Longbottom.  Please come in.”

 

“Thank you, Professor.  Please, call me Neville.  When Hogwarts is in session, though, please call me Professor.  Among us, though, just Neville, please.”

 

“Of course, Neville.  Please call me Hank.  I’m still not used to being called Professor, though.  Have a seat; I was just about to have a drink.  Care to join me?”

 

We sat at a small table to the side of the room.  It was a tower room, or more appropriately rooms, and the ceilings were over ten feet tall with heavy scarlet and blue curtains covering the large windows.  Books, boxes and other items were cluttered alongside the far wall next to the large bed.  After going over to the bed and moving multiple boxes and packages out of the way I finally found my goal; a large backpack.  I unzipped the main compartment and unrolled a towel to reveal a bottle of scotch.

 

“Friends sent this off with me when I left.  I was really hoping it didn’t break.  Um, Neville, I have a question.  Where can I get some glasses, ice, and water, um pretty much everything except scotch?”  Neville grinned, seemed almost embarrassed and pulled a little stick out of his robes.  Some stick waving later two glasses appeared on the table alongside a small bucket of ice and a silver pitcher of water.  I watched the beads of condensation trickle down the pitcher and didn’t say anything for a few minutes.  “Sorry, Neville.  That’s going to take some getting used to.”

 

“No no no, I’m sorry.  I apologize, I’m sure it will come as some shock for a bit.  I think you’ll get used to it, though.  Some of my best friends were Muggle-born and they’ve seemed to adapt fairly well.”

 

“True, but they can use magic, right?”

 

“Um.”  Neville looked at the raven statue on top of the bookcase in the corner for a fleeting moment before turning back to me.  “True.  But some of their parents aren’t wizards or witches.  I’ll introduce you sometime.  I think you’ll find it educational.”

 

I poured out two glasses of scotch, added one ice cube and a small bit of water to mine and handed Neville the other glass.

 

“Neville, I think the whole part of my being here, let alone being the Professor of Muggle Studies at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, will be an educational experience.”

 

Later that evening, after a single glass of scotch, Neville had excused himself and said goodnight.  It took the better part of an hour before the room was manageable enough, let alone the bed cleared off enough to sleep before I could stop and try to begin to process everything.  I decided upon a small mental checklist, a trick I used when studying or during important things.  While I looked at the moon sliver through a gap in the curtains I went through the list:

 

_What I Know_

_I am in Scotland_

_I am at school for magic_

_Magic really freaking exists_

_A nice guy who’s in charge of this place just made scotch glasses appear out of thin air_

_I’m supposed to teach something called Muggle Studies_

_I’m single._

 

_Fuck_.

 

The last item on the list snuck up on me.  Dammit, it wasn’t supposed to happen like that.  I was in Scotland trying to get away from everything.  Hell, the place was currently located was as completely as far away from that as possible.  Half a world away from Virginia, half a world away from that heartache. I stopped and realized I was talking out loud again.   _Bullshit_ the little voice inside my head said.  _You can never run away from that.  Stupid_.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

I woke up sometime later and due to the very heavy bed curtains I couldn’t decide initially if it was day or night.  After I stumbled out of bed and tripped over a book I almost ended up landing on my ass in a half-unpacked trunk full of clothing.  Light streamed into the room when I finally parted the curtains.  “Morning, I guess.”  After realizing I was talking out loud again several thoughts started in on me, one especially:  am I talking to myself or am I still talking to her?  _Crap_.  I needed my watch, my glasses too, but I didn’t know where they hell they were.  I made my way into the shower; at least the room had a decent shower, and it appeared that someone was nice enough to put minimal toiletries in the bathroom so I didn’t have to dig through all my stuff.  God only knew where it was packed.  After all the horror stories I’d heard from the family in the airport about Scottish plumbing the shower warmed up rather quickly.  That family didn’t know what they were talking about; so far Scotland was great.  They must have stayed at awful hotels that didn’t have a hot water from this century or towels worth a…towels.  _Shit_.  I didn’t remember seeing any towels.  _Crap_.

 

I stuck my head through the shower curtain and looked around hopefully, but no towels were in sight.  “Great, now where the hell am I going to get a towel?”

 

*CRACK*

 

Standing on the bathroom floor with one hand over its eyes and another holding a towel was the weirdest little thing I had ever seen. I had almost slipped out of the shower in surprise at the huge-eyed thing with weird ears.

 

“FUCK!  What the hell?”

 

“Oh, Nonky is sorry, so sorry.  Professor Boyd asked for a towel so Nonky brought you a towel.  Nonky is sorry if I scared you Professor Boyd!”

 

I took a longer look at the small creature that trembled and held a towel towards my general direction.  After stopping the water and taking the towel I wrapped it around my waist and stepped out, still dripping slightly.  “You can look now.  Thank you, by the way.”

 

The small creature removed his hand from his eyes but lowered his gaze immediately.  “You’re welcome, Professor Boyd.  Very welcome.”

 

“Please, call me Hank.  What’s your name again?  And I’m sorry if this is rude, but what exactly are you?”

 

“A house elf, sir.  Nonky, sir.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Nonky.  Thank you for the towel.  If you don’t mind me asking, how did you know I asked for a towel?”

 

“I’m a house-elf, sir...that’s what we do, we help.  Must go now.  Goodbye.”

 

With another loud crack Nonky disappeared.  I stood there in a towel and rubbed my head.  As Neville said, the experience was definitely going to be educational.

 

After standing at my wardrobe and luggage pile, wondering what professors wear to breakfast when school hasn’t started yet, I eventually pulled on jeans, a polo shirt and my favorite old driving loafers.  It was a good thing the loafers passed the sniff test, nothing like meeting your new colleagues and wondering if everyone could smell your shoes.  I was just about at the door ready to head to breakfast when I realized I had absolutely no clue where anything was in the place.  Arriving at night had been a blur, the castle ( _holy shit it was a castle_ ) had loomed large in the clouded moonlight, and then Neville had led me to my room where all of my belongings had already arrived.  There was no map of the place on the back of the door; after all, this wasn’t like the hotel room in the Outer Banks where we…damn.  Again with _those_ memories.

 

A knock on the door brought me back to reality.  I walked over and opened the door to see Neville standing there smiling.  “Good morning, Hank.  I figured you might need some help finding your way to breakfast.”

 

I smiled back.  _Thank God for Neville_.  “Morning, Neville.  You’re absolutely right.  Thanks a lot.”

 

We walked down towards the Great Hall and Neville pointed things out as we walked.  My head swam as it was almost too much to keep up with.  Finally we reached the Great Hall where a small amount of people were beginning to gather, and the smells of breakfast hit me like a ton of bricks.

 

“Wow, I can’t remember when the last time I ate was…probably that stuff that was on the airplane.”

 

Neville laughed slightly, “Yes, I’m sorry about that.  The Ministry decided it was best you travel like a Muggle to avoid any notice.”

 

“Neville, are all the Ministry folks so, um…are they always like that meeting we had?  Are they all so, um, official?”

 

“No, Hank, not all of them.  That was just Percy.  He’s better than he used to be.”

 

“That’s scary.”

 

We sat at a table towards the corner of the Great Hall, and after we had settled in Neville nodded.  “I thought this would be better for your first time here in the hall, Professors and staff sit at the main table up there.  Just a friendly breakfast today, that way I can answer any questions you have about Hogwarts.”

 

“Sounds good, Neville, but how do we get breakfast?”

 

“Just think of what you want for breakfast and the house elves will bring it to you.”

 

That was too good to be true.  I just knew I was going to wake up in my little house and it would all be a dream.  Well, I decided that if it was a dream I was going to take full advantage.  I closed my eyes and thought of a big ham and cheese omelet, fried potatoes, bacon and a big cup of hot coffee from my favorite coffeehouse with sugar and cream.  The smell hit me before I could open my eyes, and the instant I did open my eyes I saw all the food I had just thought of, large portioned and waiting, right in front of me on the table.  Just as I had imagined it, with one small difference; no coffee.

 

*CRACK*

 

“Nonky is sorry, Headmaster, but Neeker is having a small problem with Professor Boyd’s order, sir.”

 

I looked at the house elf and saw Nonky’s big eyes plead with Neville for understanding and forgiveness.

 

Neville smiled.  “Good morning, Nonky, how are you?  What’s the issue with Neeker?”

 

“Neeker doesn’t have any of the coffee that Professor Boy…”

 

“Hank, Nonky.  Call me Hank.  If you don’t have any coffee that’s fine.  Dark tea will work great.  Sugar and cream…”

 

“Milk, Hank.”  Neville smiled.  “We do milk in tea, not cream.”

 

“That’s cool.  Nonky, just bring me tea like Neville’s if it’s not too much trouble.”

 

Nonky let out his breath and sighed in extreme relief.  “Oh no, not at all, not all all.  Right up.”

 

Before I could even thank Nonky a cup of tea appeared on the table.

 

“Thank you, Nonky.  Please tell Neeker not to worry.”  Neville thanked the house elf, which stood at his side.

 

The conversation I’d had with Neville the night before about house elves and their self-punishments shot to the front of my thoughts, but my mental images of Neeker punishing herself due to a lack of coffee were quickly dissipated by Nonky’s small bow and smile, and with that he was gone

 

Neville took a sip of tea and relaxed.  “A proper cup of tea will help get you acclimatized to Hogwarts.  Now Hank, do you have any questions?”

 

My big laugh echoed off the walls and caused the small amount of people in the Great Hall to look our way.  “How much time you got, Neville?”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

For the fourth time in as many minutes I stared at my reflection in the mirror.  _Relax; it’s only a dinner party.  These are people that Neville says will help you understand what kind of world you’re in now.  Relax.  Right.  You’re in Scotland and somehow you’re going to end up in London at someplace called Grimm-Odd with everybody that can do magic except you and it’s just going to be a pleasant evening all around.  No awkwardness there at all.  No Janine there to lend support, either.  DAMMIT.  Now you’re thinking about her again and that can’t go well.  You’re out of scotch, you can’t find an electrical outlet to iron your shirt and your belt is somewhere at large amongst all the luggage that’s yet to be unpacked.  Wonderful.  Fucking perfect._

 

I looked in the mirror again, smoothed my hair and decided the goatee wasn’t quite ready for a trim yet.  I put my hands on the side of the sink, took a long look in the mirror and assessed the situation.  Almost thirty-six years old, going slightly bald, the reddish-blonde hair going white in my beard and lines beginning to form around my eyes just like Granddad’s.  At least my glasses were ok, even though I need a new prescription but hadn’t done that yet; that would be just another reminder that I’m getting old and wasn’t married.  _Married.  Crap_.  I’d planned on proposing to Janine, had even gone as far as to look for a ring before she had dumped me at that damned black tie dance for her work.  She’d made sure I rented a very nice hotel, we went to the dance…crap crap crap.  It’s because I’m too old for her; that had to be part of it even though she didn’t say so.  I know it deep down that had to be part of the reason.  _Good God, now I’m getting hairy ears_.  “Just give me a walker and a Clapper and pack me off to the old people’s home.”  My reflection in the mirror did not reply.

 

Neville knocked on the door and poked his head in.  “Ready Hank?”

 

I left the bathroom and walked into the room, adjusting my glasses as I walked.  “I guess so, Neville.  How are we getting there?”

 

Neville smiled calmly.  “Well, since you’ve got your special Ministry privileges, we’re going to side-along apparate.  Normally we couldn’t do that since you’re a Muggle, but you are a special case.”  Neville explained apparition and watched me turn slightly pale.

 

“This sounds like something out of a science-fiction story.”  Seeing Neville’s expression, I quickly told him not to mind, that it was a Muggle thing, and I was as ready as he would ever be.

 

It was a big house, and after the shock of watching it appear in front of my eyes I wondered if I would ever get used to the realization that the magical world existed right alongside my world.  Neville knocked on the door and it was then that I felt a sinking feeling that I was being a bad guest; I hadn’t brought a bottle of wine or anything for the hosts.  My mother would be aghast at my lack of manners, but I wondered if maybe things were different in London.  London.  I’d been in Scotland a few minutes ago and now I was in London.  Mind boggling.  My reverie was interrupted when a red-haired woman answered the door and invited us in, hugging Neville and welcoming me in with a smile.

 

“Harry, everyone, our guests are here.”  She gave Neville a kiss on the cheek and put her hand out to me.  “Hello Hank, I’m Ginny Potter.  Very nice to meet you.”

 

I shook her hand.  “Very nice to meet you.  Thank you for having me over tonight.”

 

I followed Neville and Ginny to a very large, comfortable room with bookcases, pictures and full of people.  In short order I met Ginny’s husband, Ginny’s brother and his wife and several other people who’s names I would have a hard time remembering.  Names, names, names.  I knew I was going to mess up remembering everybody’s names at least a couple times, but at least I could remember Hermione’s name (Hermione Weasley, Ron’s wife. Hermione Weasley, Ron’s wife.  Ginny’s sister-in-law.).  That was one I’d hadn’t heard outside of my literature readings.  Well, her and George Weasley, Ginny and Ron’s brother, as he only had one ear for some reason.  After introductions and shaking everyone’s hand Hermione took matters into hand.  Literally.  She took my hand and led me over to the couch and told everybody else to sit and relax.

 

“Care for a drink, Hank?”  It was Harry.

 

“Um sure.”  I could really have used a beer, but decided whatever would be great.  Mom’s ‘gracious guest’ phrase kept sticking in my head.

 

“We’ve got tea, some…”

 

“Hey Harry, I think this occasion calls for something a little more, shall we say, powerful?”  I looked at the red-haired guy with one ear.  George, that was it, George.  He pulled out a small flask and waggled it around.

 

“George Weasley!”  The older red-haired woman sitting in the corner did not look pleased.

 

“Aw Mum, we’re all of age.”  George looked slightly irritated, but somehow he didn’t look entirely truthful.

 

Ok, his comment cemented the fact that the older red-haired woman was George, Ginny and Ron’s mother.  That made sense.

 

“Butterbeer would fine for me.”  Ron looked sheepishly towards the other women, and when nothing happened immediately he broke in “Butterbeers it is then.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

\

 

After a couple of butterbeers and polite conversation about Hogwarts I began to relax a bit.  The people were all very nice, and since I had established that all of the red-haired people were related, there was just Neville and an older woman who were probably not Weasleys or Potter/Weasleys.  While thinking about how big the house must be that would hold everybody, the elder of the red-haired men walked over and sat down on the couch next to me with a look on his face like it was Christmas morning.

 

“So Hank, you’re a Muggle?”

 

“Arthur!”  Molly, sitting on a chair across the room, had a mortified look on her face.  I noticed that everyone else in the room was grinning.

 

“Um, yes, I guess so.  Neville told me on the way to Hogwarts that you call people who aren’t magical Muggles, and if that’s true then I’m probably about the biggest Muggle you’ll ever meet.”

 

“Extraordinary!”  Arthur took a drink of his butterbeer.  “So tell us about yourself.  How did you get here?  I’m sure that’s a fascinating story!””

 

_Crap.  I knew this moment was going to come eventually.  At least here it was a small group.  Neville had told me that the people at this dinner party were his closest friends and I could be myself tonight.  Small comfort, but at least this wasn’t an auditorium full of people_.  “Ok, I guess I’ll give it a shot.  My name is Hank Boyd, and I’m an adjunct instructor of literature at a small college in Virginia.  My full name, which I never use, is Henry Aaron MacDonald Boyd; I’m named for my father’s favorite baseball player and my mother’s maiden name.  Obviously they compromised on the name, but whenever I have to fill out any paperwork they never have enough room for all of my names.  I’ve been Hank for as long as I remember, so please just call me Hank.”

 

I took a quick drink of butterbeer.  “The question I know y’all all wondering is how I got here, though, and sometimes I’m not too sure myself.  I was in Washington, D.C. last spring for a literature conference and sat in on a presentation called ‘Making Magic Real: The Literature of the Fantastic.’  I hadn’t planned on attending but the professor who was going to go decided that it was more up my alley, and since I was going to focus on fantasy literature for my next paper he gave me his place.  Besides, I think he wanted to go golfing.  Anyway, it worked out perfect for me because later that evening I was going to a formal dinner and dance with my…”  I stopped a minute and lowered my eyes, took a deep breath, and then took a large drink of butterbeer.  “I was going to a dinner and dance thing with my girlfriend.  It was her company’s big event and they were having it in D.C.  Since it was formal, and I didn’t have time or anyplace to change before the dance, I went kilted.”

 

“Excuse me.”  It was the older lady.  “Did you say that you were kilted?”

 

I know I must have been smiling at that.  “Yes, I was.  MacDonald through my mother.  I thought I recognized your accent.  You’re Scottish, right?”

 

She smiled.  “Yes.  My last name is MacGonagall.  Please continue.”

 

  1. So we head over to a local watering hole and have a few beers.”



 

Harry had obviously noticed my butterbeer becoming rapidly empty as he walked over and handed me another one.  I thanked him and took a swig.

 

“I start asking him questions about Scotland, especially the western highlands, and he’s telling me great stories, but I wonder if he’s about thirty beers ahead of me.  He’s talking about stuff that I’ve never heard of, and I’ve done quite a bit of reading.  He asks me if I’m related to Magnus Dent-Head MacDonald, but I haven’t been able to get my family tree back to Scotland yet so I really can’t give him an answer.  He then asks me a bunch of questions, about stuff that is really odd.  I chalk it up to him being another whacked-out academic and tell him that I have to leave.  He tells me that he’ll buy me lunch at the conference tomorrow if I wouldn’t mind answering some more questions, especially about my literature courses and the conference topics.  I figure it’s a free lunch, so why not.”

 

I shifted in my seat a bit and took another drink of butterbeer.  _Fuck it.  Spill it.  Do you good.  Go for it_.  “I’ll pick up the next day at the conference.  He finds me right away and starts talking then he stops, because he can tell I’m all messed up.  He motions for me to sit in the hotel lobby chairs and I tell him what happened.”

 

“What happened?  OW.”

 

“Honestly, Ron, you are so rude.”

 

“Well I’m interested, Hermione.”

 

“Be nice, Ronald.”

 

I smiled at the couple.  “It’s ok.  Really.  What happened was that we went to the dinner and dance, which cost me over $900 for everything, and after dessert Janine tells me that she doesn’t think things are working out anymore.  That it’s not me, it’s her; that I’m a really nice guy but she doesn’t think our lives are moving in the same direction and it would be better if we just didn’t see each other anymore.”

 

“Ouch, mate.”  George gave a low whistle.  “After you shelled out all the money, too.”

 

“Tell me about it.”  I looked and saw sympathetic faces all around.  “We’d been together for two years.  She’d gone from the bottom of her company to the medium-level pretty quickly.  I guess I just wasn’t rich or young or successful enough for her.  She’s 10 years younger than I am.”

 

“Women.”

 

“George Weasley, I will…”

 

“Lighten up, Mum.  It’s a man thing.”

 

That’s when I noticed Ginny and Hermione looking at their spouses.  Harry and Ron studiously drank their butterbeer and avoided looking at their wives.  “Right.  So Mr. Leisure Suit, or, um, Dr. Telephus Dante, proceeded to tell me that the rest of the conference was bollocks and that what we needed right then was a drink.  Even though it was around ten in the morning I wasn’t going to argue, so we ended up back at the bar we were at the day before.  For the rest of the day.  Somewhere around mid-afternoon Dr. Dante looked at me like he’d just discovered electricity.  He tells me to wait for him, he’d be right back after he owled somebody.  I only remembered the part about ‘owling’ later, though.  I’d had enough Guinness and scotch not to care what he said, so I didn’t move except to use the facilities and bum few cigarettes off some old guy.  Eventually he came back looking all happy and asked if I have an eleckeltronical mail address.  Seriously, even as gone as I was I remembered that part.  I give him my email address and after another couple of rounds I figured that nothing good was going to happen that day and so I caught a cab back to the hotel.”

 

“The hotel?”  Ginny looked at me quizzically.

 

“Yeah.  The really nice one I rented for Janine.  I had planned on staying the weekend in D.C. so I wasn’t due to check out until Sunday.  I don’t remember much after getting to the hotel, and I woke up the next day feeling like week old garbage.  Eventually I checked out of the hotel, fought the traffic and went back to my little house in Virginia and holed up for a couple of weeks.  I wasn’t teaching any classes that semester so nobody said anything.  Then about a week or so ago I got an email, asking me to attend a meeting in D.C., and it’s from Dr. Dante.  The meeting was scheduled for a Saturday, so at least traffic wasn’t horrible.  I drove up to the address and was in a sushi place that’s pretty good, so I figured at least I could get some good sushi out of the meeting.”

 

“What’s sushi?”  Ron looked at Hermione.

 

She looked exasperated.  “I’ll tell you later.  Now be nice and listen.”

 

I smiled slightly at Hermione.  “Dr. Dante was there and so were two other guys.  One guy looked like he could be a linebacker for a pro football team and the other guy…well, actually, he looks a lot like you.”  I nodded towards Arthur.  “Dr. Dante laid it all on table, then.  There’s an offer, but first he asks me some questions.  Things like if I’ve ever had a gut feeling about something one way or another without being able to explain it, stuff like that.  Noticed things out of the corner of my eye.  I told him that I had, but I just chalked it up to intuition.  He looked at the other two guys and when they nodded he launched into it; the offer was a teaching position at a school in Scotland and it would be an exchange program of sorts.  There’s a teacher in Scotland who would come over to the U.S. but wouldn’t be at my school.  There’d be no official record of it.  I looked at the big guy and he took out a little stick and then all of the sudden I couldn’t hear anybody else in the sushi place.

 

“Ah yes, Kingsley takes control of the situation as always.  I remember when...”

 

“GEORGE!’

 

“Mum, I…”

 

Molly looked at me and smiled.  “Please do continue, dear.”

 

“It’s no problem.  So the big guy, Kingsley is it?  Tells me about how the magical world exists all alongside the Muggle world.  That I might have some magical blood way back in my bloodline.  That the offer is strictly a one-time thing, and that if I don’t agree that I’ll never remember the conversation, so I figured what the hell.  What does my life have going in it that I really want to stay?  Besides, it would mean a free trip to Scotland.  I agreed, and the red-haired guy brought out some paper and a quill and he acted very official-like.  A real quill, like they signed the Declaration of Independence with.  The red-haired guy started going into stuff like ‘party of the first part’ and ‘magical contract’ and stuff.  I signed the contract with the quill and, um, Kingsley told me to get all of my stuff packed and that I would receive further instructions by owl, and if I say anything to anybody that there were protections in place that I really don’t want to know about.”

 

I took a deep breath.  _So far, so good._   “So I packed my stuff, told my parents and my brothers and sister that I’m going to Scotland to travel, write and research for a year.  They knew about Janine dumping me, so they didn’t say anything much.  A freaking real, live owl banged on my kitchen window the next morning with a little letter tied to his leg and after a few moments I realized that I was looking at airline tickets to London.  There was also an itinerary and the contact information for Neville.”  I nodded at Neville, who smiled back.  “I made it through security, slept on the plane, woke up in England, met Neville, took the train and we did something with powder that got me to Hogwarts.  That was all a little over ten days ago, and now I’m here.””

 

“Floo”

 

“What?”

 

Arthur grinned at me.  “It’s called the Floo Network.  We’ll explain later.”

 

“Thanks.  I’m sure that y’all will have to do a lot of explaining.  One question, though.  I went to iron my shirt for tonight and I couldn’t find an electrical outlet at Hogwarts.”

 

Arthur’s eyes went wide.  “Do you mean a plug?”

 

“Yeah, a plug.”

 

Arthur thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out the ends of an ancient extension cord.  “Here, have one of mine.  You can never have enough plugs.”

 


	2. Not Every Quidditch Match Ends Up Like This, Right?

**Chapter 2: Not Every Quidditch Match Ends Up Like This, Right?**

 

 

I felt more relaxed than I had in ages; perhaps dinner had something to do with it, but more likely it was the fact that I had finally let it all out.  There was nobody I had been able to tell, and I knew from looking at…Kingsley, that was it, that if one word had slipped at home about my new teaching engagement that something _very bad_ would happen.  I could tell that I was amongst a group of good friends and family who were extremely welcoming.  It was better than I would have ever hoped for.  After the delicious dinner, prepared by a very old house elf, we went back to the big room for tea.

 

“So, house elves, are they everywhere?”  I took a sip of tea.

 

“Oh don’t get her started; we’ll never hear the end of it.  She’ll be going on about it for hours.”  Ron rolled his eyes.

 

_Ron.  That was it, married to Hermione.  I was starting to get the names down now, and by the look of things Mrs. Ron Weasley was not very happy with her husband._

 

“Ron you know I’m very pleased about the progress we’ve made with house elf rights.  I will not go _on_ about it, and if you don’t watch it you’ll be spending the night on the couch.  On about it.  Really.”

 

George started giggling in the corner, but stopped abruptly when he saw the look on Ginny’s face.  Wow.  I made a memo to myself, do NOT piss these women off.

 

Hermione very briefly filled me in on the house elves and was very pleased when she found out how polite I had been to the Hogwarts house elves.  “If you only knew what those poor house elves used to deal with it would break your heart.”

 

Hermione looked at me, and it was all I could do to nod.  “I’ll take your word for it.”

 

“So, Hank, I’m sure you have a multitude of questions for us.”  I looked to the older lady, who was sipping tea on a chair to my right.

 

“That’s an understatement.  I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

 

“I do.”  Hermione got up, walked out of the room and reappeared a few moments later, and handed me a book.  “This is the History of Magic textbook.”  Harry, Ron and George gave slight groans.  “Please, boys.  Hank is an academic.  I’m sure he would enjoy a good book.”

 

“I was planning on doing the same thing, Hermione.”  Neville nodded his head.  “Besides, I have a few books that we use to help the Muggle born students when they start Hogwarts.”

 

“Thanks, Neville.”  I was relieved that they had anticipated that I would have too many questions for a single dinner party.  “I guess being magical makes everything pretty easy, though.  Work must be easy for y’all.”

 

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.  Except for maybe George.”  Ginny grinned.  “Let’s see, you must be wondering what we do; you know Neville is the Acting Headmaster at Hogwart’s.  Minerva,” she nodded to the older woman, “is taking some well deserved time away but is still the Headmistress.”

 

Minerva smiled.  “Yes, my health hasn’t been the best for the last few years.  I’m starting to feel it more and more.  I am technically the Headmistress, but Neville will be the Acting Headmaster for most of the time.”  She looked at Neville. “You will do an excellent job, Neville.”  Neville blushed.  “I have no doubt, even with my occasional attendance, that it will be another wonderful year at Hogwarts.”

 

“I could never take your place, Minerva.”  Neville looked at her in admiration.  “I know you’ll be taking over after you get better.  Besides, after all you did during the war years…”

 

“The war?”  I looked at everybody and noticed that the mood in the room changed immediately.

 

It was Minerva that spoke first.  “Another time, Hank.  If you would like, we can have lunch in Hogsmeade and I can explain further.”

 

_War?  What the hell?  My mind was swimming now, but I could tell that the topic would not go well if it continued.  Quickly I decided it was time for a change of topic._   “So why does George have an easy job?”

 

George looked like he’d just been insulted.  “Hey now, it’s not an easy job!  Do you know how hard it is to come up with the right formula for Reversible Vomit?”

 

“What?”  I couldn’t believe that.  _Reversible vomit?_   I was sure that the look on my face would have made someone thing that they had just told me face was on backwards.

 

George sat up straight.  “I am the proprietor of Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes and I am perfecting Reversible Vomit Potion.  Drink it and the contents of your stomach will come out as if you’re violently ill, zoom around your head and then immediately shoot right back into your stomach.  Great for first dates.”

 

“More like last dates, brother.”  Ginny pushed her hair back behind her ear and looked at her watch.  “I can keep this up for another couple of hours, and then I have to get to bed.  Training tomorrow, you know.”

 

Harry had his arm around Ginny and smoothed her hair down her back.  He nodded in my direction.  “Ginny is a Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies.  They’re a Quidditch team.”

 

“I knew somebody would bring up Quidditch.  Honestly.”  Hermione leaned back into her chair and shook her head.  “Can’t we all get together one time without Quidditch?”

 

“Hank, I think I can help you make some sense of things.”  It was Neville.  Neville somehow always knew when I needed some information.  “In addition to what you’ve already heard Ron and Harry are Aurors, Ginny is a professional Quidditch player, Hermione works at the Ministry for Magic in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Molly and Arthur are retired.  Arthur used to work in the Department of Muggle…”

 

“That would explain the plugs, then.”  I smiled.  Arthur looked happy as hell.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

The evening wound down to a very relaxing ending as I felt like I had met some very nice people.  Besides an occasional flick of the wand (not little sticks, as I was politely informed) I hadn’t felt out of place.  Well, as comfortable as someone who has just discovered the magical world can be, I guessed.  Arrangements were made for lunch with Minerva for the upcoming week and Ron promised to take me to one of Ginny’s Quidditch matches.  Harry had wanted to go, but said something about work taking up all of his time.  He sounded vague, but after they told me exactly what an Auror was I completely understood.  When you’re the magical combination of the FBI/CIA/Secret Service and everything else rolled into one, I figured that there are quite a few responsibilities.  Ron had mentioned that his caseload was smaller so he could take me, but from the look on Hermione’s face I figured that it didn’t take much for Ron to ditch work for the match.  Ginny promised to leave us tickets, and Arthur and Molly invited me over to their house on Sunday for dinner.  Before he left, Arthur whispered a question about cars in my ear, and I let him know that I knew a few things about working on them.  Ginny had heard and just shook her head, but not in a bad way.  Eventually Neville and I went back to Hogwart’s and called it a night.

 

I tried, but I couldn’t sleep.  I watched the moon move around the room due to the open curtains, finally gave up all pretense of sleep and found the book Hermione had lent me.  I found myself wishing for a cup of tea out loud and before I knew it Nonky was there, cup and saucer in hand.

 

“Nonky, it’s so late.  You didn’t need to do that.”

 

“Oh no, Profess…”

 

“Hank, Nonky.  Please.  Friends don’t need to stand on formality.”

 

Nonky’s eyes got bigger, if possible.  He handed me the saucer and seemed to be struggling with something.  “You are quite welcome…Ha…Professor.  It is Nonky’s pleasure.”  Before I could say anything else he was gone.

 

Cup of tea in hand I found the large, overstuffed chair beside the turret window.  The light of the moon was quite bright, but after thinking the light could be a little brighter for reading the flame in the wall lamps increased to the perfect level.  I was then that I thought that maybe I could get used to magical things after all.  What convenience.  Just wish for stuff and it happened.  _How could anything be bad here?_ Then I remembered everybody’s faces when the war was mentioned.  The answer had to be in the book.  I took a sip of tea and opened the book.  _The History of Magic_.  _Should be interesting_.  After skipping a lot of the preamble I found a section on the school, the founders and the beginnings of magical education at Hogwarts.  Then, to be completely honest, I started skipping things like Goblin Wars until I found the name Potter.  _Ah, now we’re getting somewhere._   Realizing I needed some more back story I turned to the previous chapter and settled in.

 

I woke to the sound of knocking on my door and discovered that my head was completely on the desk.  When I raised my head a quill was stuck to my cheek.  I hoped that it was Neville, and judging from the voice I was right.

 

“Hank, ready for breakfast?”

 

“What?  Breakfast?  What time is it?”

 

“Nine in the morning.  Hank?”

 

“Holy shit.  Come in Neville.  Damn!”

 

Neville walked in and took a look at the bed which had not been slept in, the open book and the indentation from the quill on my face.  “Hermione would be so happy, Hank.  She was always the book person.”

 

“I’m a literature instructor.  I’m always reading two or three books.  But this?  Holy crap, Neville.  Did all that stuff really happen?  Voldemort?  Harry being ‘the Chosen One?’  You lopped off a giant snake’s head?”  Neville looked down at the floor for a minute, and when he raised his head it was the grim look on his face that shook me.  I’d seen that look before from veterans.

 

“Yeah, it really happened.  It was a horrible time.  A lot of very good people died.”

 

I got up and tied my robe around my waist.  “That explains the monument I can see from outside my window, then.  So many people…”

 

“Yes.  It gets easier, but it never goes away.”  Neville looked lost in his thoughts for a moment, and I knew better than to say anything.  “After breakfast I’d like you to meet someone.  We’ll go to McGonagall’s office.  First things first, though.  Neeker has informed me that she now has that coffee you were thinking of, and is quite excited for you to try some.”

 

“Well, we’d better not disappoint her, then.  Just let me get dressed and we’ll go down.  After the long night I’ve had I have a feeling I’m going to need a lot of coffee today.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

House elves are awesome.  I have no idea how Neeker made that coffee, but it made Starbuck’s coffee taste like three day old truck stop swill.  After the first sip I looked at Neville and said as loudly as was polite “Neeker, can you stop by, please?”  With a small pop Neeker arrived, looking very nervous.  Making sure that everybody could hear, I looked her directly in the eyes.  “Neeker, I have been drinking coffee since I was ten.  That means for about thirty years I have been drinking coffee, and without a doubt this is the best coffee I have ever had in my life.  Coffee is an essential part of my life.  You are an amazing person, and I will be forever in your debt.”  Before I could do anything else I felt her small body hugging mine.  Without saying anything she was gone with a small pop.

 

Neville laughed and looked at me, his head swaying slightly from side to side.  “You have no idea what you’ve just done, my friend.  From now on you will be only slightly below Hermione and Harry in the eyes of the house elves.”

 

“Neville, I only told the truth.  This is seriously the best damn cup of coffee I’ve ever had.  Perhaps the best cup of coffee that’s ever been brewed.”  I took another sip _.  Holy crap.  How will I ever drink another cup of coffee after that?_

 

“No, Hank, that’s not it.  You called Neeker a person.  You treated her as an equal.  I know you must have read a million words last night, but do you remember the section on house elves?”

 

A light quietly came on in my head.  “Right.  Dobby, Hermione’s work on the house elf legislation…years of mistreatment.  I get it.  But I just call them as I see them, and she’s no deserving of praise than anyone else.  I mean, Neville, you have got to try a cup of this coffee.”  The realization was dawning in my brain, but I’ve never been one to treat anybody any less than I’d want to be treated.

 

“Well, Hank, remember that not everybody shares your enlightened outlook.  Some things take time to change, especially with the older families.  They’re still very upset about the house elf changes.”  After making our way through breakfast Neville finished his tea and got up from the table.  “Now, I’d like you to meet someone.  Follow me.”

 

After telling the gargoyles outside the password (tentacula) we entered Neville’s office, or more precisely, the Headmaster’s office.  Headmistress McGonagall’s office.  Neville’s temporary Headmaster Office.  Screw it, the office of the Chief High Muckey-Muck.  Plants of all different types were placed in pots around the room and the walls were covered with portraits.  It had taken me some time to get used to the fact that the paintings moved in the Hogwart’s halls, but this seemed different somehow.  Some of the portrait frames were empty, but Neville walked directly to a large portrait of a man with a long white beard and half-moon glasses.

 

“Albus, I’d like you to meet Hank.”

 

The man in the painting smiled and peered at me from over the top of his glasses.  “Ah yes, Professor Henry Aaron Macdonald Boyd.  I am pleased to meet you.  I have quite a few names, myself.”

 

_I am talking to a painting.  Talking.  To a painting.  I am talking to a painting_.  “Thank you, sir.  I am very glad to meet you as well.”  This was Albus Dumbledore.  **_THE_** Albus Dumbledore.  After my reading last night I absolutely knew the name, knew what had happened at Hogwart’s and the part he played in the war.  Wow.  It was like meeting George Washington or Abraham Lincoln.

 

“Please have a seat, Professor Boyd.  Neville, if you would please?”  Dumbledore nodded at Neville, who pulled out his wand and conjured a chair for me close to the painting.  I sat down and looked up at the painting, not knowing what to say.  Dumbledore broke the ice.  “I trust you are finding things to your liking at Hogwart’s?”

 

“Very much so, sir.  I’m still in a little shock, though.  Everything is so different than what I’m used to…”

 

“Well, that’s to be expected.  When one first comes in contact with the magical world after not knowing about it, reality becomes more fluid.”  He smiled at me.  “Are you looking forward to your classes, Professor Boyd?”

 

“Please, sir, call me Hank.  I’m not a professor yet; I haven’t finished my dissertation.”

 

“Well, Hank, you will find that the requirements for the qualifications of professors are quite different in this school, and for your subject you are eminently more qualified than any staff that has held the position previously.”  He looked to Neville, who smiled back.

 

I nodded.  “Muggle Studies.  Um.  Yeah, I guess I would be the perfect instructor for that class, as I’m a complete Muggle.”

 

In the painting Dumbledore shifted in his large chair.  “Well, that may or not be completely truthful.  Time will tell, of course.  But as you’ve been living in the Muggle world for your entire life, there will be things that you will take for granted that others will look on as something completely foreign.  Have you met Arthur Weasley?”

 

“Yes sir, I met him at a dinner party the other night.  He seemed very interested in everything about me.  He gave me a plug.”

 

Dumbledore laughed.  “I do not doubt that he did.  As you can see, you are as fascinating to Arthur as I am sure we are to you.  It is by understanding each other’s differences and similarities that progress can be made.  In both worlds we need to travel from place to place.  We all start at one place and arrive at another.  The difference is how we get there.  In the end, though, we all get where we need to go.”

 

A sneering voice came from the right.  "Albus, how long will I have to endure such prattling?  A Muggle in the headmaster's office?  What has Hogwarts come to?"  The man in the painting had long hair that, even as a painting, looked slightly greasy.  His nose was sort of hooked and he looked like he just smelled something bad.

 

Neville made the introductions.  “Hank, this is Headmaster Severus Snape.  Severus, Hank is a visiting professor from America and will be teaching Muggle Studies this year.

 

I stood up from my chair and walked in front of the painting.  I remembered reading about Snape and the terrible price he paid for his work during the war; I also remembered how he was hated and loathed by those until they had discovered what he had done to bring down Voldemort.  “Headmaster Snape, it is a pleasure to meet you.  I read about what happened during the war, and, um, sir, I am honored to meet you.”

 

“At least he’s polite, Albus.”  Snape looked at me and I suddenly felt like I was in third grade again and I’d been called into the Principal’s office.  “I am sure that Albus will want to speak with you for an interminable length, so I will take my leave.”  With that he walked out of the frame and all that was left was the background.

 

“He does that quite a lot.”  Neville raised his eyebrows to me, and then looked back to Albus.  “That went better than I thought.”

 

“I agree.”  Dumbledore looked over towards me, then the chair, and I went back to my former position.  “I take it, Hank, that you have been doing some reading.  Not all people have such a welcoming attitude towards Headmaster Snape.”

 

“Yes sir.  Hermione lent me a copy of _The History of Magic_.  I ended up staying up all night reading it parts of it.  It’s only because of Neeker’s coffee that I’m upright.”

 

“Yes, the house elves are very complimentary about you.”  I looked at Neville then back at Dumbledore.  “I have a painting in the kitchens.” he explained.  “I am not surprised that Miss Granger, ah, excuse me, Mrs. Weasley would lend you a book.”

 

“Well, I can’t help myself, sir.  I’ve been a reader since I was a kid.  Always staying up late and reading; I guess I come by it honestly, as my mother does the same thing.  But I do have a question.  Why me, sir?  I’m a struggling instructor at a small school that nobody’s ever heard of, I don’t have my doctorate and I’m sure there are scientists or engineers or some other profession that would be better qualified to teach Muggle Studies.  I don’t know how much the students here will get out of Shakespeare or Hemingway.  Why me?”

 

Dumbledore looked at me, and God’s honest truth, it looked like his eyes were twinkling.  “Hank, knowing what you know about the magical world, can you think of a reason why not?”  I opened my mouth, and when nothing came out, I closed it and just blinked my eyes.  “Precisely.  Now, if you would excuse me, I need to discuss some things privately with Professor Longbottom.  I am sure we will talk again soon.  I am very pleased to have met you, Hank.”

 

I stood up and looked him in the eye.  I was definitely pleased to have met him.  “Thank you, sir.  I’m very pleased to have met you as well.  I look forward to our talks, Headmaster Dumbledore.”

 

“Please, call me Albus.”  He smiled and then nodded to Neville.  I knew what that meant and let myself out.  Maybe I could get another cup of coffee.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Neville looked at Albus.  “I like him, he seems like a good man, but why did you pick him?”

 

Dumbledore smiled.  “Telephus said he had a good feeling about him.”

 

“How many paintings of you are there, Albus?”

 

“Quite a few.  It makes things interesting, and to be quite honest, it does create a rather large amount of social obligations.  Now, Neville, bring me up to speed about that particular legislation beginning to work its way into the Ministry.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

It was a Saturday morning, August 14th to be exact, and my calendar said that there were two weeks left before the students arrived.  Usually I would have already put together my syllabus and read through the textbook again, or any of the novels, poetry or short stories that were to be covered but this was completely different.  Neville had given me the textbook that was previously used by the last instructor, Professor Lisle, and it was useless.  I had been shown my classroom and looked through Lisle’s notes.  It was pretty obvious from the instructor’s text and notes that he had pretty much given up about a third of the way through as there was nothing written down anywhere.  When I had asked Neville why the position was vacant, he mumbled something about Lisle deciding to leave for “personal reasons,” which in my academic experience meant that he was an awful teacher and was asked to leave.  Either that or he went crazy.  That actually happened in my undergraduate career; a professor lectured about absolutely nothing attached to the syllabus or textbook and when we came back from spring break we had a new instructor.  The old one was “under the care of a specialist.”  From what little documentation I could find I decided that Lisle simply sucked.

 

The calendar also informed me that it was the day of my first Quidditch match.  The Holyhead Harpies were playing the Chudley Cannons and Ron would be by around after lunch to pick me up.  Not knowing what to wear to a Quidditch match I decided that it would be like going to a baseball game, so put on my old college sweatshirt, jeans, ancient Adidas Sambas and my Atlanta Braves hat.  Hopefully it wouldn’t be like the horse racing coverage I’d seen from England where the Queen attends and everybody is all dressed up, the women all wearing fancy hats.  _Please God, don’t let it be like that.  I didn’t think my etiquette would be up to snuff._

 

I got lucky, it was nothing like that.  Ron appeared at my door wearing an orange scarf that completely clashed with his red hair and a Holyhead Harpies hat.  “I love my sister, but I’m a Cannons man.  Hardest match of the year for me, mate.”

 

We took the Floo network to the stadium and it took me a few minutes to take it all in.  The stadium was unlike anything I’ve ever seen.  With Ginny’s connections we made ourselves comfortable in a stadium box and waited for the match to start.  Luckily Ginny’s family was in attendance, so I knew more than just Ron, who immediately tucked into the food table.

 

“So Hank, has Ron explained Quidditch to you yet?”  Harry handed me a butterbeer with a big grin.  “Ron’s the biggest Quidditch fan I have ever met, and the fact that his baby sister is a pro…well, he’s as proud as possible but…”

 

“He’s a Cannons man, I know.  He told me about point two seconds after he showed up at my door.  I get it, I’m a Braves fan.  You stick by your team.  Hey, you got off of work?”

 

“You got it.  I go to all of Ginny’s matches when I can.  Let me give you a crash course in Quidditch.”

 

Harry explained the game, with Ron commenting whenever Harry didn’t go into quite enough detail.  George had also dropped into our conversation, needling Ron about the Cannons record and historical ineptitude whenever possible.  After absorbing as much Quidditch detail as possible I decided to have something to eat.  While working my way through fish and chips Arthur sat down with a happy look on his face.

 

“Must be something having a professional Quidditch player as a daughter, Arthur.”

 

“Oh yes, it is.  But I’m very proud of all my children.  They’ve all done so well for themselves.  But Hank…”  He lowered his voice “Did I hear you correctly the other night that you know a thing or two about automobiles?”

 

“I know a thing or two, that’s one way to say it.  My first car was an old Volkswagen Beetle.  Kept the toolbox and the repair manual in the back, as I always had to fix something or other.  Had a wheel fall off on a date once.  That was interesting.”

 

“Now, you’re still coming over to eat with Molly and I tomorrow, yes?  After we finish I want to show you my automobile.  It needs some work, and I might have, um, made a few minor adjustments, but I could use another set of hands and some advice.  If you don’t mind?”

 

“Not at all.  I’ve always liked messing with cars.  Right now I’ve got an old Karmann-Ghia that I inherited from my aunt Winny.  Sometime in the late Fifties or early Sixties she and her college roommate took off and drove that thing across the country.  Needs a lot of work, but I don’t mind.  I’ve been working on for about a year.”

 

“Excellent!  Now remember, not a word about this to Molly?”

 

“You got it, Arthur.  Not a word.”  I looked over at Molly and knew that she knew he was up to something, but I figured this was something that it was best not to get in the middle of, if I wanted to survive.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Then it was time for the match, and I don’t think anything could have prepared me for what I saw that day.  I had never seen anything move that fast, and it was a lot more brutal than I thought it would be.  Even with my novice eye I could see that the Harpies completely outclassed the Cannons.  Badly.  It wasn’t even funny.  I felt sorry for Ron, knowing he needed the same kind of understanding that Chicago Cubs fans have.  I even used the same line, that for true fans of the game it wasn’t the wins or losses but the beauty of the game.  That seemed to have struck a good nerve, so I didn’t feel too bad when the score was completely and utterly out of hand.  From looking at the way he watched her, Harry loved watching his wife play, and I could see how much they cared about each other.  _Damn_.  Another time out of the blue when the fact that Janine dumped me hit me like a ton of bricks.  They were coming less frequently now, but it still hurt.  I guess being in a place where everything was a mile away from normal helps take your mind off the fact that a woman you had seriously thought about marrying said “you suck I’m leaving.”

 

Then it was over.  The stands emptied out, but we had some security types escort us down into a special section.  Walking next to Ron he noticed my look.

 

“This isn’t the normal Quidditch experience.  Usually everybody’s out in the stands, but, um, our family is a little different.  Ginny’s a professional, and, um…”

 

“And you and Harry are famous wizards who the press loves.  Can I have your autograph Ronnie?”  George put Ron in headlock which was only broken up by the combined efforts of Hermione and Molly.

 

“I believe you boys are worse than when you were living at the house.  You are not too old for me to send you off to de-gnome the garden tomorrow!”

 

They must have known it was not an idle threat from Molly as everything immediately stopped.  Watching how fast two grown men minded their mother I remembered the history text about the final battle.  I said a little reminder to myself, again; do not piss off the Weasley women.  That promise to Arthur was now kind of worrying.

 

We ended up at a press conference where the Harpies were answering questions to the press exactly as professional athletes always do; talking a lot but never really saying anything.  As it was my first Quidditch match, and first and hopefully the only Quidditch press conference I would attend I was quickly bored, so I started looking at the people in the room.  For the most part wizards and witches were the same as everybody else, but the quirkiness factor was raised by a factor of about 100.  Mostly the clothes.  It was only when Ginny came in that I started paying attention slightly, but this was a different Ginny than the warm, welcoming young woman that I had met.  She was matter of fact, polite, but hesitant.  Then the questions became even more pointed and I could see her temperature rising.

 

“Mrs. Potter!  Mrs. Potter!  Is it true that you’ll be leaving the Harpies soon as you’re pregnant?”

 

The whole room became silent.  Before Ginny could say a word a short, kind of plump dark-haired witch with glasses walked up to the microphone, put a hand over Ginny’s microphone and sternly told everybody that there would be no more questions.  She then held Ginny’s arm as they walked out of the press room to the locker room.  With that every eye in the place turned to look at Harry.  I was standing right next to Harry when the flashbulbs started going off.

 

“Harry is it true?  When’s the due date?  Do you want twins?  Twins run in the Weasley family, you know.  Harry, _Daily Prophet_ , can you confirm that you and Mrs. Potter are expecting?”

 

_Holy shit._  I think I even said it out loud.

 

Arthur Weasley took command, moving everybody towards the door when the dark-haired witch with glasses popped up suddenly.  “Follow me,” she said in a very curt tone and we all followed, the press trailing in our wake.  It was only the appearance of three very, and I mean very, large wizards that finally convinced the press to back off.  We followed the dark-haired witch to a set of double doors and she opened them, ushering us all inside.

 

Ginny met Harry immediately, throwing her arms around him and crying into his shoulder.  “It’s ok, Ginny.  It’s ok.”  It was at this point Ron’s eyes widened and his mouth opened.  Hermione gave him a look, but it was too late.

 

“Oi, Potter!  You knocked up my sister?”

 

Five voices simultaneously bellowed “RON!”

 

Ginny pulled her head from Harry’s shoulder.  “Yes, Ron.  I’m pregnant.  We were going to tell everyone at The Burrow tomorrow, but yes, I am pregnant.  Happy?”

 

“Actually, sis, I am.  I’m going to be an Uncle again!”  Ron smiled, and Hermione looked shocked.

 

The short, dark-haired witch adjusted her glasses.  “Ginny, I know this a family moment, but we need to discuss how we’re going to address the press.”

 

Ginny stepped away from Harry.  “I’m sorry, everybody, this is Melody.  She’s the press manager for the Harpies.”

 

Melody looked around the room.  “Very nice to meet everyone, but right now I need to see Ginny and Harry alone please.  You can wait in the room next door.”

 

We all shuffled off to the indicated room, a sort of waiting room or reception room or something.  Molly and Arthur were hugging; Ron and Hermione were sitting together talking in low tones, which just left George and I standing together looking out of a window.

 

“Well, mate, I’m going to be Uncle George again!  I believe this calls for a celebration!”  He pulled his wand out of his pocket, pulled out a silver flask and conjured two glasses.  “Firewhiskey, Hank.  Here, have one.”  After the liquid was poured I took the small glass and raised it him.  We downed it all in one go, and damn, it surprised me.  I’m a scotch drinker, but this was different.

 

“First firewhiskey, eh?  Good, innit?”

 

Hell yes, it was good.  Before anything else could happen Melody, Harry and Ginny walked back into the room.  Melody addressed everyone immediately.

 

“We are going to issue a press release confirming that Ginny and Harry are expecting.  No more press today.  Please do not make any statements to the press; all communication will go through me regarding the pregnancy.  I’ve arranged for a portkey to take you to The Burrow.  Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, I mean, Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Weasley, if it’s not too much of an intrusion I would like to come to your home tomorrow so we can further discuss arrangements with the press and the Harpies.  I am truly sorry this happened today, and make no mistake I will do absolutely everything in my power to find the person who leaked this to the press.  The portkey will be the large blue chair in the next room.  It is active in two minutes, so please make your way there now.  If you have any questions please send me an owl.  I will be in touch soon.”  With that, she gave Ginny a small hug and walked very purposely out of the room back into the horde of press outside of the large double doors.

 

_Good God, I thought, I know it’s bad to piss off women in general, but witches?_   “Scary as hell” I said quietly, not noticing I’d said it out loud.

 

“Definitely.”

 

‘RONALD WEASLEY!”


	3. Hocus-Pocus Spicy Tuna Roll

**Chapter 3: Hocus Pocus Spicy Tuna Roll**

 

 

“So how was the Quidditch match?  I’m expecting the Harpies won.”  Neville sat in his office delicately pruning some weird purple and yellow plant.

 

“Yes, the Harpies won, and …well, you could say it was very exciting.”  Out of the corner of my eye I saw an owl swoop towards the window with something tied to its leg.  _That couldn’t be_.  “Um, Neville, when do the newspapers get delivered here?”

 

“Usually in the morning unless there’s something big.  Why do you ask?”

 

“Because it looks like an owl is trying to give you a newspaper.”

 

Neville put down his small tools and opened the window, removed the newspaper from the owl and sent it on its way.  It never failed to amuse me how they stick out their legs like that.  I almost laughed but was sure I’d be owl attacked.  After unrolling the paper his eyes widened.

 

“Ginny’s pregnant?”

 

“Yeah, she is.  Crap.  I don’t know if I was supposed to say anything.  I know newspapers talk about a lot of rumors, it’s not official yet.  Don’t tell anyone Neville.”

 

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that.  Look for yourself.”  He handed me the paper.

_DAILY PROPHET SPECIAL EDITION_

_HARRY POTTER AND WIFE EXPECTING_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Dateline: Harpies Stadium_

_Your favorite reporter has learned, and has confirmed with the Holyhead Harpies press staff, that Ginerva Weasley Potter, star Chaser for the Harpies, is expecting her first child with Harry (The Boy Who Lived) Potter.  Mrs. Potter refused to answer press inquiries and only later was the pregnancy confirmed under duress by Harpies Press Secretary Melody Bramble._

_The safety of both mother and child while playing Quidditch remains under debate.  Several physicians have indicated that it is quite safe for expectant mothers to continue playing while early in their pregnancies, but common decency demands that the rough and tumble sport of Quidditch enact new rules to address situations like these.  Although Mrs. Potter is very healthy young woman in her early twenties, Quidditch cannot be good for the unborn little witch or wizard._

_Story continued on Page 3._

 

Underneath the article were two pictures.  One picture was of Ginny and then Melody moving up to place her hand on the microphone.  The other picture was of Harry and, right next to him, me.  Harry’s eyes were open wide in the picture.

 

Neville leaned over my shoulder and looked at the picture.  “Ah, Hank.  I can read your lips.  Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

 

Easily readable by just about anything with eyes, my lips were mouthing, perfectly, ‘Holy shit.’  “Yeah, Neville.  That’s what I’m saying.”  _Great.  Just what I needed.  My first picture in a wizarding paper and I was cursing._

 

“Hank, you do realize that the first image your new students will have of you will be this picture.”

 

 _CRAP.  He was absolutely right_.  “Do you think they’ll all see this?”

 

Neville sighed.  “The most famous person in the wizarding world, who happens to be married to a professional Quidditch player, and the big news is that they’re expecting their first child?  _The Prophet_ put out a special edition.  I’d be surprised if everyone doesn’t buy two copies, one to read and the other to store as a memento.”

 

_Hello class.  Welcome to Muggle Studies.  I’m your new teacher, Professor Holy Shit._

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Surprisingly it was Hermione who arrived to bring me to The Burrow.  She looked around my rooms silently.  Then, unable to contain herself any longer, burst out with it.  “Hank, this place, well, it looks like it’s a rented room.  There’s no personality in it at all.  Not even a plant.  I’m sure Neville could give you something nice and, um, safe.”

 

She was right.  All I’d really done was put things away.  Even then I realized that I’d left a ton of things back in Virginia, including my pictures, a couple of paintings and other things I usually had to remind me of things that I liked.  The only thing decorative I actually remembered to pack was Edgar, the raven statue I took everywhere.

 

“Yeah, you’re right.  Maybe you or Ginny or Molly could help me out on that.”  _Thankfully I’d also left all of the pictures of Janine back home as well.  I had enough reminders of her as it was._

 

Hermione straightened her hair somewhat.  “Well, let’s go to The Burrow.  Everyone will be waiting.  You’ve definitely picked an interesting day for your first visit there.  I’m warning you, though; all of the Weasleys will be there.”

 

“All of them?”  How many are there?”  I knew what _everybody_ meant, as I’m from a family of four kids.  That was crowded enough.

 

“Well, you know Ginny, Ron and George.”  Then she looked at me disappointingly.  “I thought you read…”

 

“You’re right, you’re right.  Let me see.  Besides the previously mentioned, there’s, um, Bill, Charlie and Percy?”

 

“Yes, you’ve met Percy before.  He was the Ministry official with Kingsley.  He gave you the parchment to sign so you could come to Hogwarts.  I’m warning you, though, Bill and Charlie are, well, I love them but they can be kind of scary.  You’re a little older than they are, that might help.”

 

 _Great_.  At least I didn’t impregnate their little sister.  But if half of what I read about Harry was true, I was pretty sure he could hold his own.

 

After I arrived with Hermione I stood there for a moment with my mouth open.  _Architectural Digest_ would have a field day with The Burrow.  Physics would have a field day with The Burrow.  It was immediately apparent that Arthur Weasley must be one hell of a wizard to keep that thing from falling down.  Walking into the kitchen door I was immediately assaulted by smells and sounds; wonderful food smells that made my mouth begin to water and the sounds of the whole house talking at once.

 

Before I could say a word Molly met me with a small hug.  “Welcome, dear.  Please don’t worry, they’ll all settle down soon.  Would you like a cup of tea?”

 

“Yes, please.  Thank you.  That would be great.”

 

“Hermione, would you please help Hank find someplace to sit?  I swear one of these days we need to make this house bigger.”  With a deft swish of her wand a cup and saucer found its way over to me.  “I’m afraid I went ahead and made your tea for you.  I do hope you’ll let me know if you don’t like white with two sugars.”

 

With that she was off to the stove and I followed Hermione into the living room, which was covered by red-haired people.  And Harry, poor Harry was in the middle of it all.  At least Ginny was sitting on the arm of his chair lending him support.  It didn’t seem like there was anyplace to actually sit.  Before I could think of trying to move to another part of the house Arthur stood up and quieted his children.

 

“Now then, I want you all to listen.  We are all very happy for Ginny and Harry.  No, we would not have liked everybody to have found out this way, and none of you were intentionally slighted.  Today was the day the announcement was going to be made, and I would like to hear that announcement.”  Arthur’s tone was that of a father who had had enough and was not going to take any guff.  With that he sat down and nodded towards Ginny.

 

Ginny stood up, and pulled Harry up to stand with her, holding his hand.”  “Harry and I have some wonderful news.  We are expecting.  I’m about six weeks along.  Yes, we’ve been trying, but just for a very short time, so we were very surprised.  I plan on playing Quidditch for a little while, but I will be retiring before the baby is born.  You are all going to be aunts and uncles again.”  She looked at a very pretty blonde woman who was holding a small girl who looked about four years old.   “And some for the first time.”  Then she began to look her older brothers in the eye, and by the expression on her face, everyone know that she was very happy about this, but if you gave her too much flak it wasn’t going to go well.  “We are very, very happy, and if any of you do anything nasty to Harry I swear I will…”

 

Molly came in and threw her arms around Harry and Ginny.  “I’m going to be a Grandmother again!  How wonderful!  I’m so happy for you both.”

 

From then on it truly became a celebration, with Ginny’s brothers grudgingly congratulating Harry.  I found myself sitting on the couch a little ways away from the main event when I noticed that the press secretary from the Harpies was sitting at the other end.  She must have caught me staring at her, because she caught my eye for a minute.  _What was I thinking?  I’d just broken up with Janine, and I’m wondering…stop.  Stop it, you’re in no shape to even be thinking about that._

 

She adjusted her glasses and pushed her hair behind her ear.  “You don’t look like a Weasley.  The beard’s the right color, but you’re a bit too blonde.  Are you a cousin?”

 

I shook my head.  “Nope, just a friend.  I’m the new Muggle Studies teacher at Hogwart’s.  I saw you after the match, but I don’t think we’ve officially met.  I’m Hank Boyd.”

 

She shook my outstretched hand.  “Nice to meet you.  Melody Bramble.  I take it from the accent that you’re not from here originally.”

 

“True.  I’m visiting from America.”

 

“Did you go to Houdini?  I have some friends who attended.”

 

 _I drew a blank.  Harry Houdini?  He was a real wizard?  That would explain some things_.  “I have no idea.  Sorry, I’m a Muggle.”

 

“Oh, I hope I haven’t offended you.”  Then she blushed slightly.  “Weren’t you in _The Prophet_?”

 

George stuck his head between us from behind the couch.  “Hey Melody, I see you’ve officially met Oh Shit.”

 

I shook my head.  “Thanks George.”

 

“No problem whatsoever, mate.  Bill, Perce, Charlie, have you met Oh Shit?”

 

Ron chimed in.  “You’re wrong, George.  It’s Holy Shit, not Oh Shit.”

 

Hermione rolled her eyes.  “Honestly, Ron?”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Dinner was a raucous but fun event.  I ended up sitting next to the pretty blond woman (who I found out later is Fleur Weasley) for about a minute before I was rescued by Ron.  I had been staring at the beautiful curve of her neck, her hair was up and I just couldn’t stop looking.

 

“Don’t worry, happens to everybody at first.  She’s part Veela; don’t want you to get on Bill’s bad side.  Here, Hank, I’ll switch you places.”

 

I knew from the scars on his face, as well as the history textbook that Bill Weasley was in my top five of the list _People Whose Bad Side You Should Never Be On If You Have Half a Brain_.  The seat shuffle put me between Ginny and Melody.  Hermione, across the table had a quick smile on her face as she looked my way for a second but quickly started talking to Percy about something at the Ministry.  Since I knew almost nothing about the Ministry I found myself looking at Melody.  Now this was a pretty witch.  I really liked the glasses, too.  Guessing her age, she would be around…and that’s when I found the food on my plate was the most interesting thing in the world.  Fascinating.  She would be around Janine’s age, somewhere in her early twenties.  Dating someone so much younger than me turned out so well last time, gee, why not?  Seriously, though, why would she be interested in me?  I’m a Muggle.  Can’t do anything with a wand except maybe grab a second one and use them for chopsticks.  Hocus Pocus Spicy Tuna Roll.

 

She turned to me.  “Um, Hank?  Do you know _The Prophet_ is asking about you?  They want to know who you are, since you were at the press conference and you’re a ‘Friend of the Boy Who Lived’ and all that.  Best to get out ahead of all the press, especially that Skeeter woman.  She’s horrid.”

 

“Me?  They really want to know who I am?  What should I do?”

 

“I know a reporter who I trust over at _The Prophet_.  Maybe she could do an article on you.  After all, you’re going to be news soon anyway.”

 

“Why would I be news?”

 

“Hank, you don’t know?  You’re the new Muggle Studies professor, and now I’ve just found out that you’ll be the very first Muggle professor to ever teach at Hogwarts.  That will definitely be news.  Some wizarding families are not going to take that very well; there’s still a lot of Muggle distrust and, well, some of the families who were on, um, that side of the war still believe in the pureblood nonsense.  It’s going to be big news.  Trust me; you want to get out ahead of that.  Plus maybe it will give them something to think about besides the picture that’s in _The Prophet_ right now.”

 

 _I felt like I had just been hit by a truck full of something very heavy.  Probably driven by a drunken monkey.  I was going to need help.  Lots of it._   “Melody, you’re in P.R., could you help me out on this?”

 

“I would be happy to help with what I can.  Just remember that Harry is a good resource as well.  Nobody alive has more experience dealing with the press, the good and the bad parts of it, more than he has.  He’s ‘The Boy Who Lived’, remember?”

 

Things were pretty normal after that.  Once we’d had dessert, and before anything else could happen, Molly stopped by and whispered in my ear.  “I know Arthur has asked you to look at his silly automobile, but after everything that’s happened in the last two days, would you please be a dear and postpone it until another time?”

 

Nothing escaped Molly Weasley.  “Of course, Molly.  I’ve got to start preparing my coursework for the first term, and as Melody let me know, I need to become press-ready.”

 

“Thank you, Hank.  I appreciate it very much.  Just remember, next time there are photographers around, please don’t use foul language.  You are a professor, after all.”  She smiled, patted me on the arm and went back over to Ginny.

 

_Great._

 

 -ooo-

 

 

Not surprisingly the tour was Hermione’s idea.  She had mentioned to Ron that I had spoken to her about Washington, D.C., the capital of America, so she thought I should really see London, the capital of wizarding Britain.  After going over the cross-cultural benefits in multiple ways and in so much detail Ron finally begged off from the tour, saying there was some “special secret Auror stuff” that he just had to do.  Immediately.  That’s how I ended up with Hermione at my door one morning.

 

“You don’t have many days left until classes start, and, to be honest, I love going to these places.”

 

“Thanks, Hermione.  I appreciate it, but it looks like nobody else does except us.”

 

“Well, remember, Harry and Ginny can’t go out in public now without being mobbed after what _The Prophet_ printed, Molly and Arthur have Victoire today, Neville said he had some sort of plans and can you really see Ron taking a day off to visit historical monuments?”

 

I didn’t know Ron very well yet, but I had to agree.

 

After arriving in London we began to walk through the streets and I felt like a double foreigner; if there was ever an American Muggle in London, it was me.  At least I had the class, hopefully, to not act like an ugly American.  While we were walking I found myself half-listening to Hermione but mostly wondering about her, Ron and Harry.  Not only were they war heroes, they were _teenage_ war heroes.  They were still young, about ten or so years younger than me.  After all that they had been through it was amazing to me that they didn’t all have post traumatic stress disorder or heavy drinking problems.  One afternoon I had made my way down to the Hogwarts Memorial and just sat there for about an hour or so; it reminded me of the war memorials in D.C.  I noticed a small bouquet of flowers had been placed by someone quite awhile ago, as the flowers were showing the effects of time.  The flowers of magical Britain were remembered there as well.  It was after half-hearing a question from Hermione that I was brought out of my reverie.

 

“I’m sorry, lost in my thoughts.  What was that?”

 

Hermione smiled.  “Don’t worry.  It is a lot to take in.”

 

“How did you manage it?  Your parents are Muggles, right?”

 

“It was easier for me to find out I was a witch because it finally explained things.  My parents, though, were a bit shocked.  It’s not everyday you find out your daughter is a witch.  Not an everyday occurrence for dentists.”

 

I laughed.  “I can only imagine.”

 

“Ok, our next stop is the Ministry of Magic.  We can stop by and say Hello to Harry if he’s not too busy.  I doubt Kingsley will be available, though, as he is the Minister for Magic.”

 

“Wait, Kingsley is the Minister for Magic?  He’s like the President?  Or the Prime Minister?”

 

“Yes, that’s right.” She took my arm as we made our way through the crowded streets.  “So the second person you ever met from the wizarding world is the top man.  Not bad, especially for a Muggle, Hank.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

If Quidditch had been an assault on the senses then the Ministry was an assault in spades.  People appeared via the Floo network in droves while messages zoomed through the air.  We had arrived via the Visitor’s entrance, which was disorienting on its own, but the place was just crazy.  After getting my Visitor’s Badge (Hank Boyd, Visitor of Hermione Weasley, DMLE) we took the elevator to Hermione’s office.  Two older wizards were on the elevator as well, or lift as I was reminded, but they were too busy looking at parchment to notice us.  It didn’t take long to reach our objective after the lift stopped, and I smiled when we entered our destination.  Hermione’s office was neat as a pin but very comfortable.  It actually didn’t look like an office at all; more like someone’s favorite reading room in their house.  True, there was an official desk, but Hermione led me over to two high-backed floral chairs next to the window.  A small round table was covered, neatly, with books and parchment.  It was like going to your favorite coffeehouse and finding the perfect chair for the afternoon, free refills and just starting a good book.  Small pictures of Hermione and Ron on their wedding day, casual pictures of the couple and what I assumed to be Hermione’s parents waved to me from the wall.  Of all the places in the wizarding world, outside of the Burrow her office felt like someplace I could easily spend the afternoon.

 

“Your office is great.  I would have a hard time getting any work done here, though.  I’d probably end up sitting there having tea and reading all day.”

 

“Thank you, Hank.  It is quite comfy, but I don’t have any problem not working.  Too much to work on, actually.”

 

“So what exactly do you do here, Hermione?

 

“I’m the Undersecretary for Magical Rights in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.  Sort of like the civil rights movement in America, from what I’ve read.  It was very contentious during the House Elf legislation, but it’s calmed down now somewhat.”  A small purple parchment airplane message landed on the table before us.  “Oh no, let me see what this is.  I’m supposed to be off today.”  I watched Hermione’s face darken as she read the parchment.  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to stop our tour.  I have some things I have to take care of immediately.  We’ll stop by Harry’s office and see if he’s available.  Ron actually is doing special Auror training today, so he’s not here.  I’m sorry, Hank.”

 

We left Hermione’s office and after another lift ride ended up at Harry’s office, which was absolutely nothing like Hermione’s.  Harry opened the door and immediately apologized for the mess, and it was easy to see why.  While Hermione’s office was clean and comfortable to call Harry’s office messy was a massive understatement.  I remembered teaching colleagues who had messy offices, and the office I shared with some colleagues was always cluttered, but Harry’s office looked like a small bomb had been set off inside.  Half empty teacups were scattered around on ledges, on the desk, under a chair, and parchment was stacked everywhere.

 

“So sorry, I’d offer you a place to sit, but…”  Then he looked at Hermione.  “I got the same message.  Go ahead; you’re needed there more than I am.  Just keep me posted, ok?”

 

Hermione nodded, and then gave me a small hug.  “Just postponed until next time, right?”

 

I nodded.  “Sure thing, Hermione.  I’ll see you later.”

 

Harry ran his hand through his hair and it was then that I first noticed the scar, the famous scar.  I looked away and thought I saw a box start to shuffle along the floor.

 

“Oh damn, sorry about that.”  With a small flick of his wand Harry stopped the box from moving.  “Need to tell Scarlet that it’s awake again.  Never mind.  Robards said the case I was working on has cleared up, so my schedule is a lot lighter now.  Are you hungry?  We could go downstairs for a bite.”

 

“Well, we were supposed to meet Neville at some place called The Leaky Cauldron for lunch.  Is that ok?”

 

“Works for me.  Let’s turn in your badge and call it lunch.”  I looked down at my badge, which now read ‘Visitor of Harry Potter, Senior Auror.’  “Well, they don’t miss anything do they?  Senior Auror?  What’s that?”

 

“I’m an Auror, but because of, um, my experience I jumped a level.  Ron’s a regular Auror, but he’ll get promoted soon.  Enough of that, let’s go get something to eat.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

I love the Leaky Cauldron.  Some people may not think its fancy enough, or the clientele is only marginally acceptable, but I love the place.  Harry told me that it used to be worse, but Hannah Abbot, the witch behind the counter, was responsible for making it a lot nicer.  Witch.  It was now becoming second nature to refer to women as witches; that would have been a major mistake where I’m from.  Then again, when I used to think of witches it was ‘The Wizard of Oz’ and Halloween and ‘MacBeth’, not the women that I’d met while in Britain.  I was pretty sure nobody melted when it rained.  Muggle witches definitely did not look like the curvy and cute Hannah Abbot, who personally came over and welcomed us, bringing over two butterbeers.

 

“Happy to see you, Harry.  You don’t stop by often enough.  I hear congratulations are in order?”  She had a very nice smile and looked genuinely happy for Harry.  She extended her hand to me.  “I’m sorry; Hannah Abbot”

 

“Hank Boyd, very nice to meet you, Hannah.  Great place you have here.”

 

“Thank you, I appreciate that.  I’m trying to make improvements but things take time.  Put your money away, Harry, your gold’s no good in here.”  With that she left us and went to check on another table.

 

It was then I noticed all the people staring at Harry, the glances and whispers.  One older wizard got up and walked right over to us.  “Harry, Harry, congratulations!  I am so happy for you and your lovely wife.  I was just telling the Missus the other day that it would be wonderful if you had a son, just think what you could pass on!  When…”

 

Hannah appeared suddenly over my shoulder.  “Harry, your table is ready now.  If you’d follow me, please.”  Harry shook hands with the older wizard and then we followed Hannah through the Leaky Cauldron to a staircase in the back.

 

Harry looked at Hannah strangely.  “Uh, Hannah, I didn’t…”

 

“I know, Harry.  I’d forgotten about _The Prophet_ article.  Should have remembered what would happen if you stopped by…I’m putting you in one of our private rooms.”  She stopped at the top of the stairs.  “First door on your right.  Don’t worry; nobody will bother you up here.”  With that she turned and went back downstairs, leaving Harry and I looking at each other.

 

Harry sighed.  “I’m sorry, Hank, sometimes I forget.”

 

“No problem, Harry.  It’ll be easier to hear ourselves think up here anyway.”

 

After another butterbeer and an order of fish and chips which Harry teased me about (a cliché, but I like fish and chips, can I help it?) I broke the small silence.  “It can’t be easy, Harry.  I know being famous isn’t always easy, well, not personally, but I never imagined it would be like this.  Do you and Ginny ever get any privacy?”

 

“Not very much, but it’s been better lately.  When Ginny started playing for the Harpies it was bad for a while, and then when we got married it was mental, but now that _The Prophet_ reported that Ginny’s pregnant we’ve had reporters bothering us.  They stay back a ways, though, after Ginny Bat Bogey Hexed one photographer.”

 

“Ron told me never to be on the receiving end of one of those.”

 

“Yeah,” Harry laughed, “he would know.”

 

“You’ve had to put up with that kind of stuff your whole life, haven’t you?”

 

Harry raised his eyebrows, sighed slightly, and then reached for his beer.  “Ever since I found out I was a wizard, yes.  It hasn’t been easy.  People always expect you to be nice, and if you’re in a bad mood it makes the papers.  One headline was something like _The Boy Who Was Quite Rude._   Gets a bit much sometimes.  At least I have the advantage of being an Auror; people tend to give you a bit of space.”  He paused.  “Go on, ask the questions.  I know you want to ask, but you’re just being polite.  I appreciate that.”

 

“I didn’t want to bring it up, really.  My grandfather was a veteran, and I know he didn’t like to talk about it much.  Granny said that after the war it took him a long time to get back to the man she knew, and even then there were times when he got a look in his eyes and she knew it was best just to leave him alone.”  I paused for a minute.  “Is everything that I’ve read true?  It doesn’t seem real.”

 

Harry took off his glasses and laid them on the table.  “Most of it is true.  There are some things that happened that didn’t make the history books, and it’s better off that people don’t know.”

 

I nodded.  I thought I understood.  “The closest analogy I can make is to the American Civil War.  That’s been over forever, and there are some people who still can’t let it go.  Trust me, I live in Virginia.  The War of Northern Aggression is still a topic best avoided at certain dinner parties.  I do know that it’s taken years for people to come to grips with the Civil War, and the repercussions are still there if you look closely enough.”

 

“It’s the same here.  That’s part of why Hermione had to leave today.  There’s legislation working its way through the Ministry to classify every magical being.  Since the blood purity movement has died down somewhat there are some who are trying to get it reintroduced through the back door.  Lucius Malfoy’s old lot is saying that to effectively govern the wizarding world we need to know the magical levels of everyone, and that everyone needs to be graded out depending on their magical abilities.  It’s just another way to make sure that everyone knows who is more pure-blooded than everyone else, and another way to try to reverse Hermione’s house elf legislation.  I don’t think it will pass, but it’s not going to be easy.”

 

“Everybody is equal, just some more than others?”

 

“That’s it.  I’ll never really understand those people.”

 

I pushed my empty plate to the side and took another swig of butterbeer.  “Speaking of not understanding, I guess I need your help.  Melody Bramble said that I should talk to you.  I guess I’m going to be news soon, since it’ll come out that a Muggle is teaching at Hogwarts.”

 

Harry put his glasses back on.  “True.  The best advice I can give you is to tell the truth, but try not to say anything that can be easily misconstrued.  Sounds easier than it is, but it’s what I’ve gone with for years.  Also, just be as nice and polite as you can.  They don’t make it easy, trust me.  And stay away from Rita Skeeter.”

 

The door opened and both of us were relieved when we saw it was Neville.  “I got Hermione’s owl.  She said you would be here.  Hannah let me know where you were.”  Neville’s face blushed slightly when he mentioned Hannah.

 

_Good for you, I thought, she’s a cute witch._

 

Neville sat down between Harry and me.  “So, what’s got you both looking like you’ve spilled your butterbeer?  Was it the press?  They’re camped out downstairs, by the way.”

 

Harry groaned.  “Well, now that, but it’s the Magical Classification Legislation, actually.”

 

“What’s going on with that?”  Neville looked worriedly at Harry.  “Albus will want to know the latest.”

 

Before anyone could say anything Hannah appeared at the door.  “Harry, I’m afraid I can’t keep them at bay much longer.  There’s a back door you can use if you don’t want to go through the gauntlet.  Neville, I made your favorite and thought you might want to take it with you.”  She handed Neville the brown paper bag and suddenly looked somewhat nervous.  She straightened her shoulders and looked at him with a smile.  “And Friday night would be wonderful.  Back door is down the hall, last door on the left.  Now scoot.”  Wiping her hands on her apron she left the room, leaving Harry and I to look at Neville.”

 

“Finally did it, then Neville?”  Harry was smiling at his old friend.

 

“Yes.  I asked her out yesterday.  She was too busy at the time to say anything except to stop by today.”

 

“Your favorite?”  I looked at the bag.

 

“I stop by here quite a bit.”

 

Harry stood up.  “Gee, Neville, I wonder why.”


	4. The Only Bad Press is No Press?

**Chapter 4:  The Only Bad Press is No Press?**

 

I sat in my room in the big green chair waiting.  Waiting, waiting, waiting.  I’d even tried talking to Edgar, as at that moment my brain was convinced that Hogwarts would enable him to talk.  It didn’t.  It was the day it would all be out.   I’d given the interview to the nice witch recommended by Melody and I thought things had gone well.  I tried to remember Harry’s advice, but ended up saying more than I had planned.  That was when I started to think that I needed something stronger than coffee but eventually just settled on coffee.

 

“Pardon me, Nonky, but…”  I never seemed to be able to finish the sentence.  Nonky was by my side, large cup of Neeker’s amazing coffee in hand, along with a small plate of scones.

 

“Neeker thought the article and picture of you were very nice.  She thought scones would be appropriate for this morning.”

 

“The article?  Do you mean…”

 

Before I could finish Nonky was gone.  The article?  Did that mean that _The Prophet_ had already arrived?  Why wasn’t there an owl at my window?  Right.  I hadn’t subscribed yet, I usually read Neville’s copy.  Before I could get up to go find Neville a large owl was thumping against my window with what had to be a newspaper attached.  I let the owl in and hurriedly removed the paper.  On the top was a small note saying ‘Compliments of the _Daily Prophet!_   Special rates for new subscribers!’  That went on the floor immediately and I spread out the paper.  I was the lead freaking story.

 

_MUGGLE TO TEACH AT HOGWARTS_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry announces new staff today._

_Professor Henry Aaron MacDonald Boyd will take up the position of Muggle Studies instructor effective at the beginning of the new term.  “We feel that to give students an appropriate view of the Muggle world that we could have no better instructor than one who’s an expert in the field.” said Acting Headmaster Neville Longbottom.  “Working with the Ministry of Magic we have hired Professor Boyd and feel he will be a most welcome addition to our staff, as well as provide our students with an understanding of Muggle life never before possible.”_

_Professor Boyd is an academic in the Muggle world, teaching Literature at a small school for older students.  “I feel that students, regardless of what institution they attend, are all looking for the same thing: knowledge.  While my experience in the wizarding world is very limited, I believe that I can give them some insights to how Muggles live.”  While discussing his new posting with The Prophet, Professor Boyd indicated that he has always wanted to visit Scotland, as he is researching his ancestry, specifically the MacDonald side of his family._

_As Secrecy Statutes are one of the most sacred tenants of the wizarding world, Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt ensured that Professor Boyd’s appointment was governed by the strictest possible precautions.  “The contract contains provisions to ensure that the Secrecy Statutes are maintained to the fullest.  In the event of any potential disclosure, the strongest Obliviation agreements, along with other special provisions, were approved and signed by Professor Boyd.  I have full faith in Acting Headmaster Longbottom’s management of this unusual agreement.  In addition, Headmistress Minerva McGonagall will function as a special advisor to assist Professor Boyd throughout the year, health permitting.”_

 

A small picture of me looked up and slightly waved back.  At least I didn’t look like a total idiot.  I sat back in the chair and a wave of relief flooded over my brain as I sat back and took a sip of coffee.  I had spoken to the reporter for a little under an hour and she took the best quote I had and used it, thank God.  I didn’t sound like an idiot, and Neville had been great.  Then I picked up the paper.  _Obliviation agreement?_   I was going to have to ask Neville about that one after I finished the scones.  Taking a bite I started to flip through the paper, then stopped at the Editorial section.

 

_HOGWARTS APPOINTMENT RAISES ISSUES_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has announced that Professor Henry Aaron MacDonald Boyd has been appointed to the position of instructor of Muggle Studies.  While it is commendable that Hogwarts has extended an offer to a Muggle teacher, it is this reporter’s opinion that this could provide a dangerous precedent.  Professor Boyd has shown, in the very pages of this newspaper, that his language is somewhat coarse.  What other personality traits does Professor Boyd have that we know nothing about?  As the previously published picture indicates, Professor Boyd is friends with Harry (The Boy Who Lived) Potter; did he obtain this position due to his friendship with celebrities?  His teaching career may be appropriate for Muggle students, but why has Hogwarts not produced Professor Boyd’s credentials?_

****

Under this paragraph was my wonderful “Holy shit” picture with Harry.  The article continued.

****

_I am sure that other Wizarding families will want to know the answer to these questions, and more.  Minister Shacklebolt’s assurances of secrecy notwithstanding how are we to know that this won’t lead to an increased security risk for the entire magical world?  I believe that Headmistress Minerva McGonagall may come to regret recommending Neville Longbottom as the youngest Acting Headmaster in Hogwarts history if this appointment is any indication.  It is doubtful that if Headmistress McGonagall was in full possession of her faculties --”_

_(Continued on Page 4)_

_Fuck fuck fuck._   Now I know why Harry told me to stay away from Rita Skeeter.  How could I have got this job through Harry?  I didn’t meet him until after I came to Hogwarts.  _Dammit_.  I finished my breakfast, pausing only to look through _The Prophet_ half-heartedly until I got to the Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes advertisement.  It was flashing and swirling around so much that it hurt my eyes.  I had to remember to thank George for that; I needed it to get my mind off the editorial.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

After dressing I found my way over to Neville’s office.  He waved me in after the gargoyles let me pass and I sat down next to him at his little table.  Still wearing his bathrobe he motioned towards the paper.  “I take it you’ve seen today’s _Prophet_?”

 

“Yeah, complimentary copy.  Who the hell is Rita Skeeter?  And what does she have against me?”

 

“She’s not a nice person, Hank.  Harry knows better than any of us.”

 

“Yeah, he warned me to stay away from her.  I thought I did.  At least I got a good picture in on the front page.  Thank you for the nice comment, Neville.”

 

“You’re welcome.  It’s the truth…I think the students will learn more from you than Lisle.  You saw what he left.”

 

“True.  Skeeter gave you a dig as well.”

 

“I’m used to that.”  Neville sighed.  “I get it all the time.”

 

I looked around the room at the paintings.  The former headmasters that were in attendance were sleeping.  Dumbledore and Snape did not appear in their frames.  “Hey Neville, where’s Dumbledore?

 

“Off someplace.  There are a ton of his portraits around the wizarding world.”  He paused to take a sip of tea.  “You look like something else is on your mind besides portraits, Hank.”

 

I guessed it must have been obvious.  “The article said something about Obliviation?  What’s that?”

 

Neville looked slightly worried.  “I guess you didn’t really read the contract when you signed it, then.  In Muggle terms Obliviation is when a spell is cast and people forget things.  It’s used by wizards and witches to make Muggles forget things they accidentally see when they shouldn’t.”

 

“So if I mess up somehow, I’ll forget any of this ever happened?  I’ll forget you, Hogwarts, everything?”

 

“Yes.  You’d just wake up one morning thinking perhaps that you’d been hiking in the Highlands for a year.  They’d give you something nice, though.  Nothing horrible.  Sometimes they have people who had to be Obliviated for long periods of time wake up in the hospital and believe they had been in a coma.  Makes the memory gaps easier.”

 

 _If I messed up I would never remember any of it, no Hogwarts, no Neville, no Quidditch…wow._   Then a thought came to me.  “Neville, is it possible to Obliviate specific memories? “

 

He shook his head sadly at me.  “I know what you’re thinking, and it just doesn’t work that way.  Sorry, I can’t make your breakup any easier.”

 

“Oh well.  Worth a shot.”  _Damn_.

 

After a bit more chatting about, well, nothing really I left Neville’s office and decided to take a long walk through the castle.  Not one of my better ideas.  Eventually I ended up back at my office after several hours, my feet hurting and wishing there was a map of the place.  I could have sworn that I had walked past the same damn suit of armor four times.  I had just sat down in my chair to read when green flames shot up in my fireplace and the head of Arthur Weasley poked out.

 

“I hope I’m not disturbing you, Hank.  Are you by chance free this afternoon?”

 

 _I’m talking to a head in a fireplace_.  _Wizarding video conferencing of sorts_.  “Sure, Arthur.  I don’t have anything planned.”

 

“Wonderful.  Give me a few minutes and I’ll pick you up.  Meet me down by the front gates in an hour.”

 

With that he was gone.  I had a feeling I knew what was happening, but I wondered if Molly had any idea.  If my conversations with her were any indication, I’m sure she knew exactly what Arthur had in mind.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

I heard it before I saw it.  A slightly battered car drove up towards the front gate, piloted by a beaming Arthur Weasley.  “What is this?”  I had never seen a car like this one before.

 

“This is, without a doubt, one of my favorite things in the world.”

 

“I’m a car guy, Arthur, I get that, but what is it?”

 

“Ford Anglia, my boy.  I might have mentioned before, I’ve, um, made a few modifications.  Hop in and I’ll show you.”

 

I got in and quickly buckled up.  “So, extra horsepower?  Better handling?”

 

“Something like that.”  And with the push of a button and the pull of a lever we were airborne high above Hogwarts.  “I’ve still got to work on the steering.  It’s a little wonky when I go left.”  And with a turn of the wheel we hesitated slightly then turned left abruptly.  “See?  I wonder if you can help me with that bit.”

 

“I’ll do what I can, Arthur, but our cars tend to stay on the ground.”

 

The rest of the afternoon was spent at The Burrow in Arthur’s shed, which like the Tardis, was a lot larger inside than it appeared.  Arthur was quite pleased with himself when, after doing a quick initial look under the hood, I told him that magic was probably the only way that the car could possibly run.  After crawling underneath and looking around for about thirty minutes I pulled myself out by the front bumper and wiped my hands on a rag.  The more thorough examination only proved it without a shadow of a doubt.

 

“I’ve seen cars in states of non-working order, but this takes the cake.  There are no belts on the engine.  You’ve only got one spark plug and you’re missing the oil filter, not to mention the engine doesn’t have a drop of oil.  In the Muggle world there is no way in hell this car would ever move an inch.”

 

He smiled and patted the fender.  “What would it take to get my baby in Muggle working order?”

 

“About fifty trips to the parts store, a bunch of cash and months of work.  Why?”

 

“Don’t tell Molly, but I’ve always wanted to take the Anglia into London and drive around for the day like a Muggle.  I don’t think she’d understand, but as you said, she’s not a car person.”

 

That was an understatement if I’d ever heard one.  I could tell that he’d obviously been planning on this adventure for quite some time, as there were street maps of London hanging in the shed that were yellowed from age. “Where did you get this car?”

 

He chuckled and looked at me sheepishly.  “Well, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts was my department when I worked at the Ministry.  Something I came along during work one time, and I just couldn’t part with it.”

 

“Wait, is this the same car that Ron and Harry…”

 

“Yes, the very same.  It’s taken me quite some time to tame it again.  After living in the wild for so long, it was, well, not as easy to handle.”

 

“Arthur, you can Apparate, use the Floo and even travel by broomstick if you wanted.  That has to be much easier.”

 

“Easier, yes.  But not as much fun.”  He paused and looked at the Anglia for a moment.  “How have you been going from place to place since you’ve been here?”

 

“Mostly side-along apparition and Floo with other people.  Took a train one time.  Why?”

 

“There must be something we can do for you.  Most inconvenient to have to rely on others to go anywhere.  I would trust you with my car, but…”

 

“Say no more, Arthur.  Like I said, I’m a car guy.  I understand.  But I’d appreciate any help on, um, transportation issues.”

 

“Thank you.  I would like to ask you for a favor though.  If you’ll help me work on the Anglia I’ll speak to Kingsley.  Just promise me you won’t say anything to Molly.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

The rest of the late afternoon and early evening was spent in the very pleasant atmosphere of The Burrow.  I could see why Harry and Hermione loved it so much; you couldn’t help but feel welcome and comfortable there.  While sitting at the kitchen table with Molly while Arthur excused himself to go “tidy up the shed” I noticed the clock.  Ron’s hand said ‘Sleeping,’ Ginny and Harry’s hands were pointing to ‘Traveling.’  Hermione and George’s hands were firmly fixed on the ‘Working’ label.  Then I noticed another hand.  It was pointing to ‘At Peace.’

 

Molly noticed my examination of the clock.  “It’s an amazing piece of magic.  Arthur bought me a new one after Ron and Ginny’s weddings.  This one is enchanted to add new names when the family expands.  And it will be expanding again.”

 

“You deserve it, Molly.  After everything this family has been through.”

 

She smiled at me like my Gran used to when I was small.  “That’s very kind of you, Hank.  We miss Fred terribly, but he’s not forgotten.  I still think of him every day.”

 

Right, Fred was George’s twin brother who died at the Battle of Hogwarts.  I remembered reading about it, and Hermione filled me in with a lot of details during our walk when I had asked her about George’s ear.  I took a sip of tea.  “I understand.  I still think of my Gran every day.  She’s not here, but she isn’t really gone.  If you know what I mean.”

 

“I do, Hank.  I do.”  Molly looked at the clock briefly, and then turned back to me.  “Now your Gran, was she part of the MacDonald side of your family?”

 

“Yes, she’s my maternal grandmother.  Why?”

 

“Wizarding families keep extensive genealogies.  There might be something we could do to help you look for your roots.  I understand from _The Prophet_ that it’s one of the reasons why you decided to teach at Hogwarts.”

 

“So you’ve seen _The Prophet_ , then?”

 

“Yes, I saw _The Prophet_.  Don’t let that awful Rita Skeeter bother you, she’s a horrid person and everyone knows it.  I am thankful that you took a very nice picture for the front page.  Very handsome.”

 

“Thank you, but I don’t think handsome is the word you’re looking for.”

 

“Nonsense.  I’m sure you will find that your picture will have certain witches anxious to discuss their children’s schooling with you.”

 

 _Crap.  I hadn’t thought of that.  Meeting all the parents.  Does Hogwarts have parent/teacher conferences?  I’d have to ask Neville._   “I appreciate the offer on the genealogy, Molly, but I haven’t been able to trace my family outside of the U.S. yet.”

 

“Some rather large gaps, then?  That might be because your relatives might not all be Muggles.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

The calendar informed me that there was one week before classes were to begin.  Seriously.  I went to mark off the days before my first day of classes and the damn thing actually told me to get a move on and get ready.  Talking calendars.  We’ve got those in the Muggle world, but without the smarmy attitude.  I’d started putting together a syllabus about forty times and ended up pitching them all in the garbage, or as they say here, I binned the lot.  Worst case scenario I could go by what Lisle did the year before, but that would be crap.  Besides, according to _The Prophet_ and Neville and Kingsley, I’m an expert in this field.  No pressure there whatsoever.  Nope.  None, zip, zilch, nada.  Then I began to wonder about what I should wear for classes.  I had the formal robe that Neville gave me when I arrived, but besides that it was just khakis, button down shirts, some sweaters and jeans.  Perfect for teaching hung-over freshmen in Virginia, but this seemed a little bit different.  After all, these kids wore uniforms and ties and private school stuff.  I needed to go shopping.  But where do I go, how do I get there and, most importantly, how do I pay for anything?  Do wizarding stores take credit cards?  Luckily I had a planning session scheduled with Neville that afternoon.

 

“So Hank, any thoughts on your syllabus?”  Neville was at his desk this time, and although it was a friendly meeting amongst colleagues, I could tell that he had his headmaster hat on.

 

“I’ve been working through that, and I’m stuck.  I think the main issue I have is that I don’t know what the students know about the Muggle world.  I know when I teach a Literature 2 class that the students will already have covered Literature 1.  I know what’s expected in my department for Literature 1, but here I have no idea.”  _I sat back in my chair feeling defeated.  So much for being the great Professor._

 

Neville leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head.  “I’ve been giving that a little bit of thought as well, Hank, and if you don’t mind I have an idea that might help you out to start.  Why not ask each class what their biggest questions are about the Muggle world, and then you can use that as a loose framework?  You can build the nuances in later, but it will give you some place to start.  You’ve seen Lisle’s textbook, right?”

 

I laughed.  “Yeah.  _Muggles Among Us_ by Frederick Hildensnort.  I think it was written when my parents were kids.”

 

“I wondered if it was out of date.  Well, you can always fall back on working from the text and teaching what’s right and what’s wrong in the text, and maybe bring them up to speed to where things are now.  Minerva will be stopping by when possible to observe your classes initially, and she’ll be available to help with any questions you might have.”

 

“No pressure there, Neville.  Wasn’t she one hell of a teacher?”  _Doomed.  I. Am. Doomed_.

 

Neville laughed.  “Yes, tough but fair.  You really earned your grades in Transfiguration, trust me.”  He leaned forward in his chair, and I sensed the concerned headmaster hat had slipped off for the day.  “Um, Hank, if you don’t mind, I’ve got a somewhat, ah, um, personal question.”

 

 _Shit.  Maybe I was wrong about the headmaster hat.  I knew it was going to be about my credentials and publishing them in The Prophet.  Great.  I knew that the freaking B in Shakespeare was going to come back and haunt me._   “Not at all, Neville.  What’s on your mind?”

 

“I’m taking Hannah Abbot out tonight, and, well, I’m not sure what we should do.”

 

I felt my shoulders ease.  Not my credentials at all.  “Well, what do you like to do, Neville?  You could always take her out to dinner.”

 

“True, but she runs The Leaky Cauldron.  I know she wouldn’t want to eat there.”

 

For such a big wizard, dating seemed to really scare him.  Unnerve him as well, as that was a crap idea.  “Duh, Neville.  What about London?  Or Aberdeen?  Glasgow?  You can Apparate anywhere.  Don’t limit yourself to the wizarding world.  You can pass for a Muggle, right?”  I watched as Neville fiddled with a quill on the top of the desk.  I guessed the answer to the question was a definite no.

 

“Maybe you could double date with us, Hank.  Help us out in the Muggle world.”

 

“Who am I going to ask out, Neville?  Minerva?  Remember, all the witches I know are married except Hannah and that’s your date.  I don’t think Harry would appreciate me asking his pregnant wife out on a date.  And Ron?”

 

“Ron would go mental.”  Neville laughed.  “He started giving Hermione a hard time about your wizarding tourist trip until she reminded him that he said it would bore his socks off in minutes.”  He stopped for a second.  “What about that witch that works for the Harpies?  The press secretary?”

 

That stopped me cold.  I thought Melody Bramble was very cute.  And very young.  But a date?  I had to admit, I was interested, but then I immediately I thought of my last date with Janine.  “Thanks, Neville, but I just don’t think I’m up to that yet.”

 

“Oh, so sorry, Hank.  I forgot.  Forgive me.”

 

“I don’t think I’m the best person to ask about romantic advice right now, Neville.  Not the best track record.  Just take her someplace nice to eat besides The Leaky Cauldron, go for a walk afterwards, and maybe go have tea or dessert someplace.  Don’t worry about it, just be yourself.  And by the way, nice job!  She’s a very pretty witch.”

 

Neville took a few minutes before looking me in the eye.  “Thanks, Hank.  Oh, before I forget, there’s a staff meeting tomorrow.  Good opportunity for you to meet the other professors before the year starts.  We’ll meet for a late breakfast around eleven in the great hall tomorrow then have a short meeting.  Don’t worry, you’ll do fine.”

 

I knew Neville is a wizard, but it was beginning to seem like he could read my mind sometimes.  The staff meeting made me remember something, though.  “Hey Neville, I do have a question.  What do professors wear when they’re teaching?  You gave me the formal robe, but I really don’t have anything else except a suit and my kilt to wear that’s nicer than khakis or jeans.  Can’t wear that every day.”

 

“You need to go down to Madam Malkin’s.  She has some nice everyday robes and other things.  All instructors are different, but some try to dress up somewhat to match the school uniforms.”  He stopped and turned his head to the side for a moment.  “I think there was a teacher who did wear a kilt at Hogwarts a long time ago…”

 

“Don’t worry, Neville.  I usually don’t bring out the kilt except for special occasions.  Ok, I don’t mind going shopping, but how am I going to get there?  And, um, how do I pay for anything?  Madam Malkin doesn’t take Visa, does she?”  I could tell that I’d ‘done a Muggle’ as Ron called it, when I said something that the wizarding folks had no idea about…kind of like if I walked up to somebody in New York and asked where I could find the Quidditch stadium.  “It’s a Muggle thing.  Sorry, Neville.  But how am I going to pay for anything?”

 

“Oh, that’s been taken care of.  While you’re here at Hogwarts your expenses have been taken care of, along with your salary.  Everything has been drawn up for you at Gringott’s.  Hermione owled me that something like this might come up.  She’s rather worried about the state of your rooms, you know.  Says you’re living like you just checked into a hotel.  Let me owl her, she might have some time today.  I’ll let you know as soon as I hear from her.”

 

“Gringott’s?”

 

“Ah, I’ve just ‘done a wizard,’ haven’t I?  I’m afraid I have another meeting to attend so I’ll let Hermione explain it to you.  Quick answer is that it’s the wizarding bank, but there’s a little more to it than that.  I do apologize, but I’ve got to get ready for this meeting.”

 

“Neville, how did everything get taken care of for me?  I don’t know if I…”

 

“Really, Hank.  It’s quite ok.  Don’t worry.  Trust me on this one.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

My head was full of too many things at once as I made my way back to my rooms.  Hermione was right, they didn’t have much personality.  But then again, who was going to see them?  My expenses had been taken care of by some anonymous person or group, I’m was getting paid on top of that, I need to go shopping and had no idea how to get there, and there’s a bank called Gringott’s that sounded kind of ominous when Neville talked about it.  I decided that worrying about it wasn’t going to get me anywhere so I settled into my big green chair and opened up Shakespeare.  Since I was in Scotland I thought it probably wouldn’t hurt to read ‘MacBeth’ again.  This time when the three witches appeared I thought of them as Ginny, Hermione and Melody; a hell of a lot funnier than Shakespeare could have ever imagined, and I’m sure a lot better looking.  Interesting that I made the third witch Melody instead of Molly or Minerva…

 

A knock on the door interrupted my reading.  “Come in.”  Ginny walked in, not who I was expecting.  “By the pricking of my thumbs, something pregnant this way comes.”

 

“Hi Hank.  And excuse me, what was that?”

 

“A bad Shakespeare mangling.  Ask Hermione about it later.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to see you, but what are you doing here?  Neville said he was going to owl Hermione.”

 

“She’s tied up with something at the Ministry.  Today’s one of my days off, and I thought you could use some help.  I have connections at Gringott’s.”

 

Shortly thereafter we arrived via side-along apparition in Diagon Alley where we were, literally, in an alley.  “I don’t think I’ll find anything my size here, to be honest.”

 

“Funny, Hank.  We’re here because Melody is meeting us.  She made me promise that if I went out I would take her along as the press is still bothering Harry and me.”

 

“Makes sense.  How are you feeling, Mommy?”  Ginny gave me a sideways look.  “My sister has two kids; I remember how pregnancy was for her.”  I also remembered how her moods could change in an instant from sunny to partly-cloudy to imminent thunderstorms.  Occasionally full-on tornado.  I found myself wondering what that was like when the pregnant woman was a witch, and my sympathy immediately went out to Harry.   I knew that he needed to go out for a butterbeer sometime.  George and Ron would definitely be up for that.

 

She didn’t look too pleased with me.  “I’m fine, thank you, Hank.  And it will be Mummy.  Now if you don’t mind let’s move out of this alley.  Melody is meeting us at Gringott’s, and that’s just around the corner.”

 

I followed her lead and tried to remind myself to keep my mouth shut about the pregnancy.  Diagon Alley was like nothing I’d ever seen, but that was pretty much the norm anymore.  I saw families going from shop to shop completing what had to be back to school shopping.  Instead of crayons and protractors I watched one boy walk along with his parents holding a cage while a small owl slept, indifferent to the crowds and noise.  Eventually we made it to Gringott’s, and Melody was waiting outside for us.

 

“So far we’re doing well, Ginny.  No sign of the press.  Let’s head inside then, shall we?”

 

I followed behind the two witches, trying to take in everything.

 

Ginny leaned over and whispered “Don’t stare at the goblins, Hank.  It’s not wise.”

 

After a few quick glances at the goblins I wasn’t going to doubt her.  They didn’t look like anything to mess with.  Eventually we came to a counter.

 

“Mrs. Ginny Potter, Ms. Melody Bramble and Professor Henry Boyd to see Mr. Bill Weasley, please.”  The desk goblin motioned us over towards some very uncomfortable looking chairs in a sort of waiting area and went back to his work.

 

“Are they always like this?”  I looked to Ginny after remembering not to stare at the goblins.

 

She shook her head and whispered in my ear “Actually, no.  These are the nicer ones.”

 

After a few moments Bill came over to meet us, hugging Ginny and shaking my and Melody’s hands.  “So, Professor Boyd, I understand you need to make some purchases today?”

 

“Just call me Hank, Bill.”  I noticed Ginny looking towards Bill.

 

“Normally I would, but goblins are very formal.  There are policies and procedures to be followed.  Formality is required at Gringott’s.”  He noticed the look on my face and smiled.  “Don’t worry, that’s why I’m here.  We’ll get you set.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

About a half hour later I walked out of Gringott’s with a small bag full of Sickles, Gnuts, Galleons and a small key.  Definitely some weird money.  Bill was right, the process made banking in the Muggle world look like child’s play.  And the ride to the vault?  No amusement park could ever duplicate that ride.  “So ladies, where are we going now?”  I had money in my pocket and two pretty witches on my arms.  Well, not literally, but still…not a bad way to spend the day.

 

“Madame Malkin’s.”  Melody looked over her shoulder at me.  “I’ve spoken with her and we’ve taken some precautions against press intrusions, but we do have a schedule to keep.  Remember, Ginny, you and Harry need to be at the reception at eight tonight.”

 

Ginny didn’t look pleased.  “Do we have to attend, Melody?  You know how much Harry and I hate these things.”  Melody shook her head yes and looked over her glasses at Ginny.  All hope at escaping the event vanished, and Ginny rolled her eyes.  “Fine.  I’ll have to get a new dress.  I really hate these formal events.”

 

“What kind of reception?”  I was glad I didn’t have to attend anything like that.  My last formal occasion didn’t go well.  Huh.  That was a good one.  Definite understatement.  Sometimes I crack myself up.  Then I finally realized Melody was actually talking.

 

“It’s a reception for our broom sponsors.  The Harpies are signing another contract with the Firebolt broom manufacturers and it’s a big press event.  Red carpet event, actually.  Ginny, you know that you and Harry will be part of the focus of the press, especially since we haven’t made another statement after the initial one.”

 

Ginny groaned.  “Great, just what Harry and I love the most.  Thank Merlin, we’re here.”

 

Normally I hate shopping as I have what my Granddad called ‘champagne taste on a beer budget.’  Being an adjunct instructor didn’t pay much, so most of the nicer clothes that I owned were presents from my mom or…Janine.  _Dammit.  She kept popping up all the time.  When will it end?_   I hoped Bill got me enough money to pay for everything, nothing like having to ask to borrow money on my first wizarding shopping trip.  I left Ginny and Melody in the witches section and made it over to the wizard’s clothing.  Surprisingly it looked pretty normal, except for the things that had been out of style for over twenty years.  I guess they didn’t get GQ subscriptions.

 

I was brought out of my thoughts about wizarding fashion magazines by a very sweet voice saying “Can I help you, sir?”

 

 _Whoa_.  Now that was a good looking witch.  Maybe eighteen or so, and with a set of curves…the kind my little brother calls dangerous.  Her blonde hair was pulled back and I could have sworn her eyes were a sparkling purple color.  The kind of woman that would have been painted on the side World War II bombers.  “Uh, yes, I need to get a new wardrobe.  I’m…”

 

A look of recognition spread across her face.  “You’re the new professor at Hogwarts!  I saw your picture in _The Prophet_.  I liked the first picture with you and Harry Potter better though, that one was hilarious.”

 

She had placed her hand on my shoulder while we were talking _.  Function, brain.  Go, synapses.  Damn.  Beautiful witch.  Totally out of my league.  Incredibly young.  Curves.  Me.  Clothes.  Need_.  “Um, yeah, that, uh, I wasn’t expecting that one.”

 

“Obviously.  My name is Medea, I’ll be happy to help you, Professor Boyd.  Let me just get your size now.”  With that she pulled her wand out of her hair and began swishing it around me.  “There, I’ve got it.  Now, as you say you need a complete wardrobe, let’s get you looking like a real Hogwarts professor.”

 

Shopping for clothes in the wizarding world has its advantages.  First of all, everything either fits immediately or can be altered in seconds by a few wand waves by expert magical tailors.  Then there’s the customer service level.  Hey, I was suffering from an extremely painful breakup, but Medea was one of the most gorgeous women I had ever seen in my life.  So instead of walking out of a dressing room, looking in the mirror and trying to decide if the clothes fit and look ok, you simply have to decide if you like it or not.  As the clothes were somewhat old-fashioned I found myself in luck, as classic men’s clothes never seem to really go out of style.  It was like I raided Cary Grant’s closet.  Eventually I wound up with an everyday teaching robe, several nice shirts and ties, classic wingtips and, my favorite, the tweed suit.  I’d always wanted one, but the Virginia climate made seersucker more of a logical choice than tweed.  If I was in Britain why not look like I was lunching with Evelyn Waugh?

 

I was admiring the grey flannel suit and bow tie when I heard “That looks very nice, Hank.”  Ginny and Melody were smiling at me while leaning on one of the clothes racks.

 

I felt Medea smooth out the shoulders of the jacket.  She was almost leaning into me and smiled back at the witches.  “Yes, I think he looks quite handsome.  Don’t you, girls?”

 

Something was going on between the witches that I didn’t quite get, but I let it slide.  I looked awesome.  “I’ll take it all, Medea.”

 

“Wonderful.  Now if you’ll be a sweetie and change out of the suit I’ll get everything ready for you.”

 

Back in the changing room I had a sinking feeling.  Did I really have enough money?  I had bought a lot of stuff, more than I had ever done at one time.  I had no idea how wizarding money worked.  Please please please let me have enough money kept rolling through my brain.  I felt like I’d come down several levels in the world when I put my jeans and polo shirt back on and walked out of the dressing room.

 

“Um, Ginny?  Can you help me for a second?”  When she walked over I leaned into her ear.  “Do I have enough money to pay for all of this?”  She smiled and patted me on the arm.

 

“You have plenty.  Don’t worry, Bill took good care of you.”

 

I went over to the counter and just gave Medea my small bag.  “I’m sorry, this is all new to me, and I’m not sure how much I owe you.  And, uh…”  _Another killer smile.  Tight sweater.  Look at her eyes, Hank, look at her eyes._

 

“That’s quite all right, luv; I’ll take very good care of you.”  She opened the bag and took out a lot fewer coins than I was expecting.  “Here you go.  We’ll have everything sent to Hogwarts for you.  Please stop back anytime.  I’d love to show some new things; we’re expecting a shipment next week.”

 

 _Sparkling eyes.  Good lord._   “That would be nice.  Thank you again for your help, Medea.”  I felt a hand on my arm.

 

It was Ginny.  “Come on, Hank, we need to be going now.”

 

I followed her out the door and looked back over my shoulder one last time to see Medea wave goodbye.  We had walked for a few minutes in silence, and I could feel a chill in the air.  Literally or figuratively, I wasn’t sure.  “What?  Did I do something wrong, Ginny?”

 

“No, Hank you didn’t do anything wrong.  That’s just one of the reasons why I don’t like Harry to go there.”  Ginny kept walking, looking straight ahead.

 

Melody laughed, but it didn’t sound like she was happy.  “I swear that woman must have some Veela blood somewhere in her family.”

 

Before Medea’s Veela heritage could be discussed any further, a semi-transparent silver stag came up to Ginny.  Harry’s voice came out in a rush.  “Emergency work at the Ministry.  Can’t go.  Talk to you as soon as I can.  Love you.”

 

I looked over to Ginny.  “What the hell was that?  I know I’m a Muggle, but damn.  Things just keep getting weirder.”

 

Ginny sighed.  “Harry’s patronus.  It also means that I’m now dateless tonight.  Great.”

 

Before I knew what I was saying the words were out of my mouth.  “Well, I could be your date.”

 

“That,” Melody said, “is an interesting idea.  Think of the press we’ll get.  And Hank, we can help work on your image with the wizarding world at the same time.”

 

Ginny and Melody exchanged small glances.  I pushed my glasses up to my forehead.    _What the hell did I just get myself into?_


	5. Merlin's Socks, Pants and Underwear

**Chapter 4:** **Merlin’s Socks, Pants and Underwear**

 

 

Ginny dropped me off at Hogwarts and said that she would meet me back at the very spot at 7:30.  I looked at my watch.  It was 5:15, so I had to kill some time.  _Good grief, I’m going on a ‘date’ with Ginny Potter, famous Quidditch player and pregnant wife of the most famous wizard in the world.  How did that happen?_   First, though, I had to talk to Neville.  I found him in the Herbology classroom organizing supplies.

 

“Uh Neville, you know how I told you I couldn’t go out with you and Hannah?  Well, somehow I’ve ended up as Ginny Potter’s date to a red carpet event.”

 

Neville looked up from a plant that was beginning to try and crawl out of the pot.  He stroked the uppermost leaves and I could have sworn that it went to sleep.  “Did you say you’re going out with Ginny Potter tonight?”

 

He looked surprised and, to be honest, a little hurt.  _Damn_.  “Yeah, you heard me right.  Let me tell you the whole story.”  I went through everything from Gringott’s to Harry’s patronus, and after explaining the last part he didn’t have a good look on his face.

 

“That’s not good, Hank.  If Harry’s got an emergency it doesn’t bode well for any of us.  We haven’t had any real Auror emergencies in quite a while.”  He brushed some dirt off his hands and sat back in his desk chair.  “And I think I may have done something to you that I am now regretting.  You know the formal robe I gave you on your first day here?  I lent it to Professor Boomstraw this afternoon.  He’s the Potions professor, and there was a wedding, and he’d forgotten his, and you’re about the same size, and…”

 

“That’s fine, Neville.  Really.  I just wanted you to know that I wasn’t planning on doing this, and if you’d like I’ll double date soon with you and Hannah.  You can fix me up with a date.  I’m not blowing you off, really.”  _Please believe me, Neville.  You’re my best friend here and if things go sideways it would be awful._   “I’m only going because Ginny needed someone…”

 

He held up his hand.  “I understand completely, don’t worry.  I will take you up on your offer sometime, though.  Right now I’m still thinking about Harry’s emergency.  OH!  And dress robes for you…I’m sorry.  I don’t know how to…”

 

“Its fine, Neville, really.  I’ll just wear my kilt.”

 

Thank God Neville wasn’t pissed at me.  I made my way back to my rooms and that’s when it hit me, I was going kilted to a formal event.  Again.  At least this time there was no chance of being dumped; after all, my date was pregnant and married to the most famous wizard in the world.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

As I went along it was ‘so far, so good.’  I didn’t have to worry about ironing anymore as Nonky had taken it upon himself to make sure that all of my ironing was done before I could even think about it.  White dress shirt, ironed and pressed, check.  Mental checklist time again, so I stood at my sink:

 

_Cufflinks - check_

_Kilt – check_

_Kilt hose and flashes – check_

_Ghillie brogues – check_

_Black bow tie – check_

_Prince Charlie jacket and waistcoat – check_

_Sgian Dubh – check_

_Belt – check_

_Sporran…sporran?_

 

 _Sporran!  Where was my sporran?_   I started going though all of drawers, boxes, closet and anyplace else I could think of, but I couldn’t find them.  Holy crap I couldn’t find my sporrans.  Forget about the formal grey one, I couldn’t even find my basic black leather day sporran.  Just great.  Now what?  Oh.  “Nonky?”

 

*crack*

 

“Yes, Pro…?”  Nonky looked at me and must have remembered that I had asked him to call me by my first name, but he seemed to be struggling with it.  Finally he croaked out “What can Nonky do for you?”

 

I guessed that the years of formal address didn’t stop so easily.  That didn’t matter, though, as there was a more pressing matter.  “Nonky, when you’ve helped put things away for me, have you seen any of my sporrans?”  I noticed the look of confusion in his eyes.  “A sporran is a small pouch that is worn with a kilt.  No pockets in a kilt, Nonky, so I need someplace to put my stuff.  There’s two of them, a small black leather one and a grey fur one…they both have straps on them so I can put them around my waist.  Have you seen them?”

 

“No, Professor.  Nonky has not seen them.”

 

“Crap!  I have to be ready in…” I looked at my watch.  “…an hour to go to a formal event and I can’t go if I don’t have a sporran.  Do you know anybody who might have one?”

 

Nonky’s eyes got bigger and before I could say anything he vanished with a loud pop.  I’m guessed that the volume of the house elves’ apparition must have something to do with their emotions.  Something to ask Hermione about later, much later, after I’d figured out what the hell I was going to do.  I started looking through my things again on the off chance that Nonky was wrong, but I knew that he was right.  I must have left them at the house along with my pictures and everything else that was on the steadily growing list called _Things_ _That I Forgot That I Really Should Have Packed._

A knock at the door brought me out of my reverie.  “Hello, Hank?”  I turned around to see Minerva McGonagall’s head in my doorway.  “Hank, I think I can help out your quandary.  Nonky just informed me of your dilemma.  May I come in?

 

_Oh my God, my room’s a complete mess, with all of the open drawers and boxes.  The sporran hunt had left everything in total disarray.  What was she going to think?  I probably look like one of her students with my room this messy.  My mom would kill me if she saw my room, even as that age._

 

“Hank?”

 

Minerva looked at me questioningly.  I had spaced again.  “Sorry, thank you, Minerva; of course.”

 

A few seconds later Minerva McGonagall stood in my room, surrounded by the debris of my hunt for the sporrans.  She looked around quickly out of the corners of her eyes.  “I have been informed you are having some trouble locating a sporran, is that correct?”

 

“Yes, it is.  Somehow I’ve ended up going to a formal event with Ginny Potter tonight and I can’t find either of my sporrans.”

 

She smiled and handed me a box.  I opened it and saw a full mask badger sporran.  A full mask sporran!  It was something I’d always wanted.  The taxidermied head of a badger was the top part of the sporran, and when the head was lifted it was a pouch like any other sporran, but the rest of it was the badger’s fur.  I could never afford one; I’d looked at buying one for years.  Now I was being handed one.

 

“It was my brother Apollo’s.  He’s since passed on, and the box has been gathering dust at the back of my closet.  You would be more than welcome to wear Balthasar.”

 

I looked up at her.  “Balthasar?  He named his sporran?”

 

“Of course.  Now, I will have to introduce you before you put him on.  Balthasar is an enchanted sporran, and can only be worn by one person.”  She reached in and pulled out the sporran, looking in its eyes.  “Balthasar, I hope you are well.  I would like to introduce you to Hank.  Hank, this is Balthasar.”  She turned the sporran until I was looking the badger in the eyes.

 

“Hello, Balthasar.  Very nice to meet you.”

 

The badger curled his lip.  “Same to ya.  Are you a McGonagall?”

 

 _I was talking to a sporran._   “No, I’m a Boyd.  MacDonald on my mother’s side.”

 

“Hummph.”  The badger looked at me, rolled his tongue around in his mouth for a minute, and then made another noise.  “I’ guess you’ll do.  Dunno any Boyds’ but I’ve known a few MacDonald sporrans.  They weren’t all bad.”

 

Minerva handed me Balthasar and I put it, er, him on.  “I can’t tell you how grateful I am to borrow Balthasar.”  Then I remembered what she had just said, that Balthasar can only be worn by one person.  “Minerva…I’m, I’m not borrowing Balthasar, am I?”

 

“Apollo would be so happy to see Balthasar on a kilt again.  Think of it as a present from one professor to another.”

 

It was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for me.  After I willed myself back to some semblance of composure I knew what I needed to do.  “Then let me thank you appropriately.”  I walked over to my desk, opened the drawer and pulled out a bottle of scotch and two small glasses.  “Please have a wee dram with me as a thank you.”

 

Minerva smiled as I handed her the glass.  “You are most welcome.  And I now know that Apollo would most definitely approve of Balthasar’s new owner.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Ginny showed up in the Great Hall right on time.  The first time I had met Ginny I thought Harry was a lucky man, but now I knew it.  “Wow, Ginny, you look great.”  She smiled and walked towards me, her simple, elegant black dress moving like water.  “That’s some dress.  Is it…”

 

“Yes, it’s a new fabric.  It’s enchanted to look like liquid when moving; otherwise it’s a normal dress.  I have to say, you look quite nice yourself.”

 

“Thanks.  Neville didn’t know I was going to this, um, thing so he lent out my dress robes to the Charms professor for a wedding.  I think that was it.  Maybe the Potions professor.  Anyway, I put on my kilt and then disaster was saved by Minerva and Balthasar here.”  I patted Balthasar’s head and, upon feeling a small growl, immediately stopped.  I didn’t want to start out my night going to the hospital because my sporran bit me.

 

Ginny smiled.  “Well, hello Balthasar.”

 

“Hello there yourself, lassie.”

 

Upon hearing Balthasar reply she took a step back, startled.  “Hank, I don’t know if…”

 

“Don’t worry, Ginny.  Balthasar says that formal events bore him, so he’s just going to go to sleep.”  I cupped my hand and whispered in her ear “Plus I told him if he behaves tonight I’ll wear him more often.”

 

Ginny told me I was being foolish when I wouldn’t hold her hand for the side-along apparition.  Holding her purse strap with one arm while she held my arm was fine with me.  I may not be the brightest bulb around, but I knew better than to do show up holding hands with a married woman, let alone a famous, pregnant woman.  The minute we arrived I moved my arm and was only holding the purse strap.  Sure enough, an instant after we arrived at the red carpet the flashbulbs began going off.

 

Melody was there at once.  “Smart move, having Hank hold the purse strap, Ginny.”

 

 _Whoa.  Melody looked, uh, wow.  I wasn’t expecting that; she’d gone from the cute librarian look to something out of a magazine.  Deep blue dress, just a hint of skin, beautiful necklace, her hair pulled up…I had to remind myself to breathe.  Breathe, right, yeah._   “Um, yeah, Hi…”

 

“Hank’s idea.  I’m glad he did now, too.”  Ginny noticed Melody looking at me.  “Don’t talk to the sporran, Melody.  Trust me.”

 

Before I could say anything or do anything I was pulled by Ginny and somewhat pushed by Melody towards the crowd; it was the walk down the red carpet.  Ginny was immediately mobbed and I don’t know how she managed.  Flashbulbs were going off all over the place and people were shouting.

 

_Where’s Harry?  How’s the pregnancy?  Are you leaving Harry for Professor Muggle?  How long have you been dating?  Is the baby his?_

 

With some help from Melody we eventually got the correct answers out, assuring everybody that Harry and Ginny were fine and that I was not running away with Ginny and taking her to America to raise her child as a Muggle.  After almost reaching the entrance we stopped for a few pictures.  I made sure that Melody stood between Ginny and I when the pictures were being taken.  I put my hand on the small of Melody’s back for the picture, moving closer together as the photographers insisted, and I could have sworn I felt her shiver.  When I looked down I thought I saw Balthasar’s ear brush against her butt; that must have been it.  I didn’t blame him, she has a nice butt _.  Hank, get a grip, man.  You’ve got to be at least ten years older than she is…but she looks and smells so good…_

 

After walking into the ballroom things became slightly easier, as there was only one official reporter and photographer from _The Daily Prophet_.  Melody made introductions to several executives who were quite dismayed to learn that I couldn’t ride a broom.  I’m sure it must have felt like making the best car in the world, then talking to someone who doesn’t drive.  Ginny and Melody introduced me to the rest of the Harpies, including Gwennog Jones, who after reading a bit on Quidditch I equated to meeting an elite world-class athlete.  They were all very nice, funny, and very interested in what I thought of the wizarding world.  More importantly, they wanted to know what I thought of Quidditch.

 

I found myself sitting at a table surrounded by what possibly was half of the Harpies team.  “To be quite honest, ladies, it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen.  It’s a combination of car racing, American football, hockey and soccer…but it’s done at about a hundred miles an hour in the air on brooms.  I’ve only seen one game, er match; the one against the Cannons, but it was amazing.  I still don’t see how you can manage to stay on the broom let alone plan strategy and not get killed in the process.”  I took a drink of scotch, but it wasn’t scotch.  Firewhiskey.  I knew I needed to be careful.  “There’s absolutely nothing like it in the Muggle world.”

 

Apparently I’d said the right things because for the next twenty minutes or so I was in the midst of a conversation that only professionals have, one filled with the sort of intricate details that only someone who really knows their stuff can talk about intelligently.  Well, that’s what it sounded like to me.  I was pretty sure that Ron would get all of it; I’d made a mental note to ask him about it later.  I was also informed that to really see good Quidditch I needed to attend one of their matches that was against better competition than the Cannons.  I was most definitely not going to tell Ron that part.

 

Eventually Melody arrived at the table.  “Ladies, we need to do the official picture with the Firebolt executives.  We’ll be taking the picture in front of the speaker’s podium.  Please take a few minutes to fix your hair or makeup if necessary and join me as soon as possible.”  I stood up to let the ladies leave and then my way back over to the bar.

 

While waiting for my drink I overheard a woman speaking.  “I cannot believe that Ministry would actually let a Muggle teach at Hogwarts!  Seriously, Candida, you’re going to be ok with a Muggle teaching your daughter?”

 

There it was, exactly what Melody had tried to explain to me at the Burrow; some prejudices were going to be hard to overcome.  I got my drink and didn’t wait for Candida’s reply, ending up towards the back of the room, leaning against the wall and watching it all.  _How was this really all going to work out?  I haven’t even started teaching yet, but already I felt a lot of pressure to disprove all of the Muggle prejudices.  Were some of them true?  Well, yes.  We weren’t all wonderful people, there are still a lot of bad things that happen in the world, and sometimes I think humanity has quite possibly gone insane.  Twenty minutes watching the evening news was proof of that.  But there were a lot of good things, too._ I was trying to list some of the good things and figure out how to work them into my lesson plan when I heard a voice beside me.

 

“Sickle for your thoughts.”  It was Melody.  She was holding a glass of champagne that changed colors, from peach to rose to some shade of blue and back again.

 

I looked down at her, wondering what I’d done to be so lucky.  “Well, before you got here I was trying to think of how I could help disprove all of the negative stereotypes about Muggles, but right now I’m trying to figure out what the heck you’re drinking.”

 

“Chameleon champagne.”  She moved towards the wall and began leaning on it as I was.  “It’s made from enchanted grapes; they change taste every so often.  If you don’t like one kind of champagne just wait a while and it will change.”

 

“They let you drink on duty, then?  Sounds like a great job.”

 

She looked up at me over the top of her glasses.  “Oh, I am most definitely off duty, thank you.  The red carpet is done, all the pictures have been taken and the interviews are complete.  Now it’s just dinner and some handshakes.  I don’t have to worry about that.”

 

_I liked her hair that way, when it’s put up and pulled back.  She has very nice ears.  Her earrings were sparkling_

 

“Hank?”

 

“Mmm?  Oh sorry, spaced out there for a moment.  So no exit pictures after the dinner?”

 

“No, the red carpet is just for the press.  Everyone will Apparate home from here, or Floo, for those too drunk to Apparate.  There are designated Apparators, as last New Year’s we forgot and one of the sponsors splinched himself horribly.”

 

 _Did that mean what I thought?_   “So, Melody, does that mean I’ve officially done my part as Harry Substitute?”

 

“Yes, you’re done for the evening.”

 

 _And so is she.  Was I crazy?  Screw it, why not._   I downed the rest of my firewhiskey.  “In that case, would you like to go somewhere else and have a bite to eat or maybe a drink?”  She turned her face towards me and a slow smile began.  A photographer’s flash went off somewhere, but I ignored it and concentrated on that smile.

 

A rough voice answered “I could use a drink.”

 

Melody looked at me oddly.  I gave her an ‘excuse me’ smile.  “Sorry, my sporran needs a drink.”

 

 

-ooo-

-ooo-

 

I woke up to something furry rubbing against my face. _Why did I sleep with my sporran by my head?_ That made no sense.  I lifted my head off of the pillow and immediately put it back down again.   _Oh my God, firewhiskey.  How much firewhiskey?_  I turned the pillow over and gently laid my head on the cool side of the light blue pillow.   _Light blue?  My sheets are green_.  _What?_  I turned my head, slowly, over to the other side of the bed, where I saw a tousled mass of dark hair and a bare shoulder peeking out from beneath the sheets.   _Oh my.  Wow._

I took my time sitting up and moved slowly to see a large, black cat rub its head against my hand.  “Hello there.  I have no idea what your name, is but it’s very bright in here.”

 

Melody stirred beside me slowly.  “Merlin’s pants!  Oh, my head.  His name is Churchill. “

 

I rubbed Churchill’s head and was rewarded with a deep, loud purr.  “Well, he’s obviously a morning cat.”

 

“Definitely.  And before you ask, yes, that Churchill was a wizard.”

 

I had to get my brain together.

_‘List of things I remember:_

_Leaving the party with Melody_

_Going to a wizarding pub in London_

_Dancing at a wizarding club in London (My God, I actually danced?)_

_Arriving back at Melody’s house_

_Drinking a couple bottles of wine_

_Telling Melody I’d never seen a wizarding tattoo’_

 

It all came back to me, right then and there.  ‘ _Holy shit.  Holy shit.  Definitely a good thing.  A definite very good thing, but now what?  Will she say that it was a wonderful night, but she doesn’t think we should tell anyone about this and then show me the door?  What do I do now?  This hadn’t happened to me since, since, damn, college- years ago.  Will I ever get to see that tattoo on her hip again?  Yeah, the tattoo...the badger that crawls out from behind the Hufflepuff crest and looks like its growling.  That was really something.   Should I get up and make coffee?  She probably doesn’t have coffee, tea then.  Where are my clothes?’_

 

Before I could think of anything else, she shifted in the bed, pulling the sheet up over her chest.  “I know I feel like leftover flobberworm pus, and I probably look worse than that, but would you like a cup of tea- might do us both a bit of good?”

 

 _She’s not kicking me out. This was good_.  “Tea?  Uh yeah, tea would be great.”

 

Melody reached over and pulled an afghan off a rocking chair next to her bed and wrapped it around herself under the sheet, then eased herself out of bed.

 

“Oh, I’m going to need several hangover potions this morning to fix this. If you’d like, you can take a shower.  Loo’s through the door over there.”  She pointed to the door closest to my side of the bed and began to slowly make her way towards what I assumed to be the general direction of the kitchen.

 

I waited until she was out of sight then quickly made my way to the bathroom and closed the door.  Yes, she’d seen all of me last night, but I was sure my pasty whiteness would not be quite the same in the light of morning.  Then it was the bathroom challenge.  All women’s bathrooms are strange to men, but this one was even stranger.  I didn’t recognize any of the soap or shampoo labels, and after smelling all of them, I decided the blue one was the one that would make me smell the least girly.  The shower was helped somewhat, but it wasn’t going to be an easy day by any stretch of the imagination.  While washing up a hand came into the shower.

 

“Drink this.”

 

“What is it?”  She didn’t look at me, she was being polite.

 

“It’s a hangover potion.  Trust me.”

 

I drank the potion and handed the glass vial thing back to her.  I finished up in the shower and stepped out, wrapped the towel around my waist and ventured outside to see if I could collect my clothes.  There was a trail of clothing that started (or more precisely, ended) in the bedroom and made its way out towards the living room.  I found my kilt and put it on, then my t-shirt, then located Balthasar on the top of a dresser.

 

“Nicely done, mate.”  If a badger could smile, this one was.

 

“Balthasar, not this morning, please.”

 

Eventually Melody returned wearing a t-shirt bearing the name ‘The Weird Sisters’ and handed me a cup of tea.  “It does wonders. How about the shower?”

 

I took a sip and wondered when I’d feel fully human again.  “The shower helps.”

 

She stepped closer, leaned up on her tiptoes and smelled my hair.  “Yes, you smell nice and floral.”

 

I looked down at her smiling face. I knew I could get used to that, but I had to make sure she knew I wasn’t one of those guys.  “Melody, since we’ve started at step, I don’t know, seven or twenty or whatever on the dating scale, how would you like to start at step one?  Would you like to go out with me? It would be a double; I owe a friend of mine.”

 

“Professor Boyd, are you asking me on a date…an official, seen in public by the wizarding world date?”  She twirled a strand of hair with her finger.

 

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.”  _Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes._

 

“I would love to, but right now I need a shower and then I have to go into the office to see what the press had to say about last night.  Eleven a.m. came very early this morning, and I am usually ready much earlier than this.”

 

“Thank you very much, Melody.” I leaned down and gave her a small kiss.  “Wait, did you say eleven in the morning?”

 

“Yes, why?  School isn’t in session yet, Professor.”

 

“No, but I have a meeting today, and I need to be there, um, well, right now.  Crap.  Neville is going to kill me.”

 

“No, he won’t.  You’re new, plus you’re a Muggle.  Say the clock’s hands did something weird.  Let me take a quick shower and then I’ll take you there.  Just make yourself at home; there are some muffins in the kitchen.”  With that, she handed me her teacup and went into the bathroom.

 

I stood there with a teacup in my hand and what I’m sure was a stupid grin on my face.  I remember thinking ‘ _I am officially dating a witch.  I think.  Wow.’_

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Melody dropped me off at the gate of Hogwarts and I took off at a dead sprint, taking the stairs to my rooms two at a time.  At least I was already showered.  I threw on a pair of khakis, grabbed a shirt and jammed my feet into the first pair of shoes I could find, pulled a notebook and a pen out of my desk and headed downstairs, thinking the whole time that hopefully I wasn’t the last one there.

 

I wasn’t, thank God.  Actually, there weren’t very many people there at all.  “I’m sorry, Nevi…um, I’m sorry Headmaster.  I apologize for being late.”  I sat down at the table next to Neville and across from another witch.

 

“You’re not late, Professor Boyd, we don’t start for another hour yet.  I told you the wrong time yesterday, sorry about that.”  He handed me a cup of coffee.  “Nonky says they’re trying out a new roast, they’re very interested in your opinion.”

 

If there was ever a day I needed a strong cup of coffee, that was it.  Luckily Hogwarts has house elves.   _House Elf Coffee: ask for it by name_.   “Remind me to ask Hermione what house elves like for Christmas.”

 

“Professor Boyd, I’d like you to meet Professor Cho Chang.  Professor Chang teaches Charms.”

 

I looked across the table and shook hands with a very nice looking Asian woman.   _Were_ _all the women in the wizarding world good looking?_

 

“Very nice to meet you, Professor Boyd.  Neville, now that the formalities are out of the way, can we please stop that?”  She looked at me with a warm smile.  “Please, call me Cho.”

 

“Thank you, Cho.  Call me Hank.”  Somewhere my addled synapses began firing.  “Are you the same Cho Chang that attended Hogwarts with…”

 

She smiled.  “Yes, that’s me.  It seems, like Neville, some of us love Hogwarts so much we never want to leave.”

 

Neville swirled his tea around his cup for a moment.  “After seeing _The Prophet_ this morning, Hank, I doubt you’ll ever want to leave.”

 

I groaned.   _Now what?_  “Ok, let me see. Based on the questions I got going down the red carpet with Ginny, I’m guessing that I’m sleeping with the star Chaser for the Harpies?”

 

Cho started laughing and slid the paper towards me.  “No, you’re not sleeping with the star Chaser.  You’re sleeping with all of them!”

 

The paper was turned to the Society page which was filled with pictures.  The caption over the picture read, seriously: “ _Professor Muggle and His Harpies Harem._ ”  There was the picture of me, at the table with the Harpies, and we were laughing.  The picture even caught the exact moment when Gwennog Jones had put her arm around my shoulders to tell me an extremely dirty joke.

 

“Merlin’s socks.”

 

“Actually its Merlin’s pants,”  Neville looked amused.

 

“Yeah, well, Merlin’s socks, pants and underwear.  Does anybody really believe this stuff? I mean, come on.”

 

Cho looked sympathetic.  “Hank, we’ve all had our run-ins with _The_ _Prophet_ over the years.  Everybody takes the editorials and the society pages with a grain of salt.”

 

“Those with half a brain take everything in _The Prophet_ with a grain of salt.” Neville raised an eyebrow and looked at me.  “But I think I’d like to hear the truth about one little picture.”

 

He picked up the paper and turned to the last page of event pictures.  There, at the bottom of the page, was a very small picture of me, leaning against the wall, talking to Melody.  It happened to capture the moment when I asked her if she would like to leave the party, and I could see that smile begin to spread across her face.

 

Neville chuckled.  “I take it you had a good night, then, Hank?”

 

I blush easily.  My sister and my brothers could make me do it almost on command once I hit puberty.  Bringing any dates home was like walking into a firing line; I knew it would happen eventually.  My mom finally put a stop to it when my sister brought out the baby pictures to show my prom date.  I had hoped that I would grow out of it, that maturity (or whatever semblance of maturity I have) would finally put a stop to it.  Judging by Cho’s face I could tell immediately that hope had not been fulfilled.

 

“Yes, Neville, it went well, oh, and you can ask Hannah out to Muggle London anytime you like; I’ll have a date.” I then took the opportunity to pick up the paper, refold it open and tried to hide my face as best possible. I’m sure it didn’t work.

 

While waiting for the rest of the staff to arrive, I savored my coffee and read through the rest of _The_ _Prophet_.  There was the official story about the Harpies/Firebolt announcement and coverage of the event.  Luckily, Melody got the reporter she wanted to write the article, I guessed, because I was only mentioned as a family friend who accompanied Ginny as Harry was called off to Auror duty.  There was no mention of any Auror activity, so I took that to mean it was something big that they didn’t want to tip anyone off about; the way Neville had reacted when I told him made me think it was something big.  Eventually, I found myself looking at the very small picture again.  Neville got up from the table, and before I could say anything, he told me that I should keep the paper.  It was then that I noticed that the population of the room had grown to what I could only guess was the entire staff of Hogwarts.

 

“Colleagues, let me welcome you back to another year at Hogwarts.  We have a new addition to the staff this year, as I’m sure you have read in _The_ _Prophet_.  Let me introduce Professor Henry Aaron MacDonald Boyd, who will be teaching Muggle Studies as Professor Lisle has decided to, ah, pursue other opportunities.”

 

 _Shit. I have to talk?_  I stood up.  “Thank you. I am very thankful of the position here at Hogwarts, and as I’m sure you’ve read, I am a Muggle, and from my accent you would be right in guessing that I’m an American.  I would very much appreciate any help you can provide to assist in my becoming more familiar with the wizarding world.  I know that formality is required when dealing with students, but amongst colleagues please call me Hank.”  I looked at Neville and he nodded so I sat back down.   _Good enough for a first impression, I guess_ ed.

 

From there he introduced, most likely for my benefit, the rest of the staff.  Cho, whom I had just met, was the Charms professor.  Boomstraw the robe-borrower was the Potions professor and he looked like something that crawled out from under a rock.  My height, yes, but the skinniest man I’ve ever seen, completely bald with a giant grey, bushy beard.  Hagrid was teaching Care of Magical Creatures, a thing named Slake was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and a pleasant but sickly looking wizard named Valencio would be teaching Transfiguration.  Sizing people up, I made my list:

 

_Cho – like_

_Boomstraw – don’t like_

_Hagrid – like_

_Slake – not sure_

_Valencio – not sure_

 

Professor Binns was still teaching the History of Magic.  Hard to replace someone who’s already dead, I guessed.  There were some other professors, but I didn’t catch their names.  I’d either eventually ask their names again or just go the rest of the time and not worry about it.  I figured I could always pull the ‘Hey, I’m just a Muggle’ card.  The rest of the meeting went pretty well, and eventually we could either stay and discuss things with our colleagues or retire to our rooms.  Boomstraw left immediately, which didn’t surprise me somehow.  I was thinking about my new colleagues when Neville sat down next to me looking like he’d just survived an ordeal.

 

“Not your favorite thing to do, eh Neville?’

 

“Not really, it went better than I thought though.  Boomstraw didn’t surprise me when he left.  He’s such a Slytherin stereotype sometimes.”

 

“Oh yeah, the four houses.  I take it he’s head of Slytherin?”

 

“Yes, he’s the head of house for Slytherin.  Cho is the Ravenclaw head of house and acting Deputy Headmaster, Slake is the Hufflepuff head of house and Valencio is the head of Gryffindor.  You know, if I remember right, I think your girlfriend was in Hufflepuff.”

 

 _Yeah, I think the tattoo gave it away the other night.  Girlfriend.  Maybe.  Whoa!  Cool, but, um…_ ”  Neville, she’s not my girlfriend, well, yet.  Hopefully.  I, uh, we, um…anyway, we’ve just started dating.  Was she here when you were a student?”

 

He shook his head positively but didn’t look very sure.  “Yes, I think she was in Ginny’s year, but to be honest, I really don’t remember her very well.  I wasn’t always the outgoing person you see today.  I only got to know people from the other houses my last year.”  Neville stopped for a minute and a dark shadow seemed to pass over his face.  “I don’t really know very many from Slytherin.  Just a few.”

 

 _Slytherin, that made me think of what I’d read in the books that Hermione had given me._   “Neville, I know Ron hates Slytherin with a passion.  Is it still like that?”  _Please say no, Neville.  I’ve got enough to get through_.  “Have things changed since, well…”

 

“Since the Battle of Hogwarts? Actually, yes.  There’s still a lot of rivalry, and if you get down to the root of it, I know there are still some prejudices against certain houses, especially Slytherin, but it’s nowhere near as bad as when I was here.”

 

I looked around and then realized that Neville and I were the only ones left in the Great Hall.  “Looks like we’re it, Neville.”

 

He took a quick look around. “So we are. Why don’t we call it a day? I bet you could use some sleep.”

 

“Merlin’s socks…”

 

“Pants.”

 

“Whatever, I’ll see you later, Neville.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

When I got back to my rooms I picked Balthasar up off of my bed and put him on the shelf next to Edgar.  “Balthasar, this is Edgar the raven. I talk to him a lot, but he’s never going to talk back as he’s a fake.  Just don’t think he needs aviary CPR or anything as he’s so quiet.  Is this a good spot for you?”

 

The badger’s nose twitched a bit.

 

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

 

Then it was time for a nap. _Nap; I knew I was getting old_.

 

I don’t think I had been asleep for more than ten minutes when a thumping against my window woke me up. There were five owls outside, looking quite perturbed that I had not yet deigned to let them in.  I put my glasses on and opened the window.

 

“Come on in, now serving number three hundred and seventy-four.”

 

After removing the messages with some difficulty I sat down at my desk.  The first one was from Hermione, saying that she thought I looked great in my pictures (especially the small one) and that Ron was incredibly jealous of my harem.  The second one was from George, inviting me for a beer sometime and asking if I could introduce him to Gwennog Jones.  The thought occurred to me that Ginny should be getting those requests, as they were her teammates, but thinking further on the matter I figured that Ginny had probably told them to all ‘sod off’.  She probably told them that Quidditch was her job and not a dating service or Quidditch fan club, or something like that.  The third one was from Molly, remarking that my pictures were getting better and that she was happy that I was training myself to not use profanity.  Number four was from Ginny and Harry, both thanking me for helping out Ginny the previous night and inviting me to the annual barbeque before school started.  The fifth one, though, was from Melody.

 

_Hank,_

_Thank you for an interesting evening.  I can definitely say that it was the best ending of a press event I’ve ever put together.  I think you left a very small knife at my house, so if you’re looking for it, don’t worry, I have it here safe and sound.  I’ll bring it to you the next time I see you.  I know it was in a hurry, but I would love to go out on a “double” with you, just let me know as far ahead as you can as I’ll have to coordinate it around the Harpies schedule._

_I’m sure you’ve seen the paper.  So has my mum, and now she wants to know when we’re going to stop over for tea so I can introduce you- gotta love the press._

_Until next time,_

_Melody_

 

I sat back against my chair and read the note a second time.  Well, it definitely wasn’t a ‘hey I thought about it afterwards and I really think we should just be friends’ note.  That was good.  After rummaging around in my desk I found a pair of scissors and cut out the picture of us leaning against the wall and put it on my desk.  Now Hermione couldn’t say that I haven’t decorated.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 5:  Two Conditions**

 

I sat at my desk with papers, er, actually parchment everywhere and looked over at Balthasar.  “September 1st is coming in three days, Balthasar.  First day of classes.  What do you think?”

 

“I think I’m tired of looking at this damned raven.”

 

In the last few days I’d really come to appreciate Balthasar.  He gave me someone to talk to and he was a hell of a lot easier to maintain than a cat.  An occasional drop of scotch, or whisky, as he informed me, seemed to do the trick.  The imminent beginning of school was starting to gnaw at me, but at least I had my sporran.

 

I pointed my ink pen at him and then gestured across the room.  “I could move you over towards the window?  How about that?”

 

“Wonderful.  More bloody birds.”

 

“I’ll see what I can do.  I’ve got to leave soon.”

 

Harry and Ginny had invited people over for an afternoon barbeque, a sort of ‘kick off the year’ party for friends and family.  Even though I had been invited informally by owl in an earlier message I had also received the formal invitation.  Though they weren’t at Hogwarts anymore the Potters continued with school year calendar traditions.  Alumni everywhere are the same, I guessed.  Ginny’s note inside the invitation had even taken care of my first panicked thought, as she mentioned that she had also invited Melody.  I wasn’t nervous about seeing her again; I was looking forward to it.

 

What was making me nervous, though, was the small box on my desk marked Floo Powder.  I was going to travel to the barbeque via Floo Powder, and it wasn’t making me comfortable.  This was a real wizard-type thing.  It seemed as if Neville had just left my office, as I sat there and replayed the whole thing over in my head.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Neville had walked in earlier that morning in a happy mood, carrying the box with two pieces of parchment.

 

“The first one, Hank, is a special arrangement made by the Ministry of Magic.  From what I hear you can thank Arthur Weasley for that one.  I guess he and Kingsley had a conversation about your travelling difficulties.  He also let slip that you’re going to help him with his car but I’m sure Kingsley let that one go in one ear and out the other.  But before I can do anything you’ve got to sign the agreement.  You might want to read this one all the way through.”

 

The parchment was in very official language but the gist of it was that it was that my Floo privileges were a one-time only agreement, that if and when I ceased to teach at Hogwarts my Flooing rights would be revoked and all knowledge of the Floo system would be obliviated.  There it was again, obliviated.  Well, since the term hadn’t even started yet, I was going to need to be able to use the Floo network, so I picked up a pen to sign it.

 

“Um, Hank?”

 

“Yeah, Neville?  What?”  I looked down at my hand, holding an ink pen.  “I can’t get the quill thing down yet.  Will this work ok?”  After Neville shrugged and nodded, I signed my name.

 

“Right, Hank, now that that’s out of the way, here are your instructions.  Don’t worry, it’s nowhere near as hard as apparating, and you don’t have to take a test.  I would suggest trying a few places here at Hogwarts at first before going anywhere else.  Walk before you can run, right?’  Neville handed me a box with the words ‘Jensen’s Famous Floo Powder’ stamped on the top.  “Remember, you don’t need very much.  That amount should last you for the rest of the year.  Once school starts you won’t need to go as many places.  Things get busier than you always think they will.”

 

I followed Neville’s advice, going from my room to the Great Hall and back again.  In a spot of inspiration, I took a small handful, threw it in my fireplace and said loudly and clearly ‘Hogwarts Kitchen.’  After shaking the Floo powder off I noticed I was surrounded by several very surprised house elves.  Nonky appeared quickly at my side.

 

“Professor, thank you for visiting us here in the kitchen.  We don’t get many visitors until school begins, we don’t.”  He looked very pleased.

 

I then knew my idea was even better than I had originally thought.  “Thank you, Nonky.  I’ve always wanted to see real culinary magic.”  _Take that TV celebrity chefs_.  Before I could leave the house elves filled my arms with as much food as I could carry and still manage the Floo powder.  I made it back into my room and put the sweets away for later, as I didn’t want to fill up on anything before dinner.

 

 

-ooo-

 

So there I was, staring at the Floo powder in mild terror.  Travelling inside Hogwarts was one thing, but to go to Grimmauld Place via Floo was another thing altogether.  Neville had corrected my pronunciation, as God knows where I would end up if I called it Grimm-Odd Place.  I was dressed decently enough, I was clean, I hoped the small bit of cologne I put on wouldn’t make anybody vomit or break out into a rash…and it would be the first time I would see Melody since the night of my ‘date’ with Ginny.  Melody and I had sent owls back and forth a few times, but that was really it.  Strange that there was no wizarding equivalent of instant messaging, email and text messages, but that just meant that all messages had to be written out in longhand; somehow this actually seemed better.  God only knew why my cell phone was totally inoperable at Hogwarts.  The thought came to me that I should ask about getting my own owl…that might make things easier once school was in session, as the school owls would probably be quite busy.  If it went OK this time…well, there was still the double with Neville and Hannah.  First things first, though.  Floo.  It was now or never.  I threw the Floo powder into the fireplace and said “Grimmauld Place.”

 

The next thing I knew I was brushing powder off of my shoulders, standing in Ginny and Harry’s living room.  I looked down and yes, I had all of my parts!  I had just let out a long, relieved sigh when I looked up; it was Ginny who met me first.

 

“So glad you could make it, Hank.  Not everybody is here yet, so come on in.  They boys are out in the back, and I think they need your help.  Dad brought a Muggle barbeque grid.”

 

 _Grid?_ I laughed _._ “Close.  Grill, Ginny, they’re called barbeque grills.  No problem.  Which way to the back?”

 

Ginny led me through the house and I ended up in a small courtyard with overflowing flower beds, a small shed, and in the back were Harry and the Weasley men, all standing around a brand new charcoal grill.  "So Arthur, I'm guessing this one is yours?"  After welcoming handshakes and accepting a butterbeer, I stood and looked at the grill with Arthur, Ron, Harry and George.

 

Arthur couldn’t contain himself.  “Did I get a good one, Hank?”

 

“Yes, you got a good one.”  I looked around it was exactly as I had expected.  “So where’s the charcoal and the lighter fluid?”

 

Twenty minutes later Harry and I returned back at Grimmauld Place after a quick shopping trip in Muggle London to procure the charcoal and lighter fluid.  Walking back into the house I saw that Neville and Hannah had arrived, as well as Hagrid.  Neville looked very pleased that Hannah had come with him and they were sitting at the table discussing something with Hagrid, who was precariously perched on what could only have been an enchanted chair.  I didn’t think any normal chairs would be able to make it through an afternoon with Hagrid.  We made our way out back and I began what George called the ‘First Muggle Lesson of the Year.’

 

I stood back and looked at them.  “Ok, we’ve put the charcoal in and made the little pyramid, I’ve doused the coals with lighter fluid, and all I need to do now is light it.  Does anybody have a match?”  Dumb question in the company of wizards.  George hit the coals with an _incendio_ spell and the flames took off.

 

Arthur was very happy. “That’s rather complicated, is it always like that?”  I nodded, not wanting to get into the differences between charcoal and gas grills.  “Well, we’ve started it, then, so now what do we do?”  Arthur looked like there was something big about to happen.

 

I hated to disappoint him, but…”We wait until the charcoal turns white.  It takes some time.”

 

Ron was sitting in a chair and looked at his watch.  “Really?  How long does it take?  And what do you do while you’re waiting?”

 

I had to laugh.  “Well, if my experience is any indication, the men all hang out by the grill and drink beer while trying to convince the others that they know more about grilling than anybody else.  Some guys will smoke a cigar or sneak a cigarette, and there’s generally a lot of man talk about women.  The women tend to stay away and pretend that their men know what they’re doing.  Eventually the food is put on the grill and, if you haven’t had too much beer, things end up tasting pretty good.  Mostly though, it’s a lot of drinking.”

 

George wagged his eyebrows at me.  “Speaking of women…”  _Oh boy, here it comes_.  “Could you introduce me to Gwennog Jones?  You seemed pretty friendly with her in that picture.”  _Whew.  Not getting teased about Melody_.

 

“Not to mention about half of the Harpies.”  Ron had moved out of the chair to come up beside me and smack me in the arm.

 

Then it was Harry’s turn.  “And let’s see, you’ve been on a, uh, date with my pregnant wife and Ron’s wife…”

 

I put my hands up in a gesture of surrender.  “Hey, those weren’t really dates!  I was just filling in for you, Harry.  And Ron, Hermione said you hated the kind of stuff we were going to…”

 

“Ease up, mate, we’re just winding you up.”  George looked like he’d had some practice at this kind of stuff before.  It’s a wonder Ron still talked to him, not to mention Ginny.

 

Arthur had looked up from the coals and caught my eye.  “Uh, Hank, I think someone has arrived that you might wish to speak with.”  He raised his eyebrows up and down a few times and I knew where George got it from.  I took a look over my shoulder and I could see Ginny talking to Melody through the kitchen window.

 

“Oooooohhhh!  Melody’s here.”  _George_.  Then Ron and Harry joined in with him.  “Ooooohhh.”

 

I walked over and put the lid on the grill.  “Seriously, guys?  I know you’re younger than me, but come on.”  I smiled and looked at Arthur.  “Check the charcoals again in about ten minutes.”  With that I walked back towards the house to the sounds of kissing noises.

 

 

-ooo-

 

When I walked into the kitchen I didn’t see Melody, just Hermione and Ginny.  Hermione gave me a hug.  “I had a feeling, Hank…”

 

“Stop it.”  _Please don’t start blushing, please don’t start blushing._

 

“Ginny said that she thought something might be there after the three of you went shopping.”  She pulled her hair back and looked towards Ginny with a grin and then began preparing vegetables.

 

Ginny smiled over to me.  "That's right, Hank.  I wasn't sure then, after the way you looked at Medea..."




 

Hermione stopped working on the vegetables and looked at Ginny.  “That woman was working there?  I swear she has Veela blood.  The last time Ron went in there I think it took him an hour just to pick out a pair of socks.  Has to be Veela blood or she’s doing some sort of charm.  That’s not legal, you know.  I might have to re-read the regulations…

 

 _Whoa_.  “Ladies, ladies.  She’s pretty, but she’s not my type.”

 

“And what is your type, Professor Muggle?”  Melody stood in the doorway, smiling.

 

“Um, ah, I think you can guess the answer to that question.”  _I could feel my face getting warm.  Dammit_!

 

Hermione started to giggle.  “Ginny, is it just me or is Professor Muggle blushing?”

 

“Definitely blushing, Hermione.  Come on, you can help me set the table.”  The two witches walked out, smiling.

 

So there I was, with Melody again.  “How are you, Melody?  I’m glad to see you.”

 

She walked up to me, leaned on her tiptoes and kissed me on the cheek.  “I’m glad to see you too, Hank.  So how has the Weasley gauntlet gone?”

 

“Fairly well, all things considered.  How’s work?”

 

“Not too bad.  We’re scouting new players to take Ginny’s place once she goes on maternity leave, so there’s not much need for press at the moment.  How about yourself?  Ready for the big day?”

 

 _Oof.  Yeah, that was coming up in three days_.  “About as ready as I’ll ever be.  So Neville tells me you were in Hufflepuff the same year as Ginny, right?”

 

“Yes, I was in the same year as Ginny.  I didn’t really know her until she started with the Harpies.  I started a part time intern a few months before she was signed.  I knew who she and Harry and everybody else was, though.  Everyone knew who they were at school.  I was just one of the regular students.”  She leaned against the sink and looked out the window.  “It appears we have an audience.”  Looking out the window I saw everyone staring at us, and then after they realized we were watching them they all became extremely interested in the grill.  Melody shook her head.  “You wonder how any of them ever got married.  It’s no wonder that George is still single the way he is…do you know he sent me an owl after our picture was in _The Prophet_?”

 

“No, I didn’t.  What did the note say?”

 

She rolled her eyes.  “It said _‘Hey Hufflepuff, your date has your house mascot on his crotch._ ’  That was it.”  She must have guessed that I didn’t get it.  “Hank, the Hufflepuff mascot is the badger.  My tattoo?”

 

“Oh yeah, right.  Badgers.”

 

Before I could say anything else Ron stuck his head in the door.  “The thingies are getting white.”

 

“I’ll be right out, Ron.”  He left and I looked back to Melody.  “Do you know all the Weasleys, then?”

 

“Somewhat; I know Ginny the best because of work, obviously… the other family members I’ve met a few times.  Harry too, of course.  George I know more than the rest, mostly on a professional basis, anyway.  When Ginny signed with the Harpies George offered to design the fireworks we use at match introductions and after we win a match.  I’ve had a lot of meetings with him, and, well…he’s George Weasley.”  She rolled her eyes and gave a small sigh.

 

“Melody, did he ever ask you to introduce him to Gwennog Jones?”

 

“Every bloody time.”

 

The barbeque seemed a success as everyone thought everything tasted great ‘Muggle Style,’ even if, as Ron said, they took a bloody eternity to cook.  After helping clean up, and making sure the grill was out ( _aguamenti_ from Harry), I ended up sitting with Melody, Neville and Hannah.  We were trying to find a date that worked with everyone’s schedule.

 

Neville flipped through a small calendar.  “Ok, the first weekend of September is out, too much to do at school.  How about the tenth or the eleventh?”

 

Hannah looked at her large planner and shook her head.  “I’ve got a bunch of Hogwarts Alumni coming in on both days.  Class of ’53 or something like that.

 

“The next week is the playoffs, so I’m going to be tied up for a while, hopefully until early October.”  Melody was looking at her calendar which was full of notes and circle around dates.  Some of the dates even flashed around a bit _.  Did everyone have a calendar except for me?_

 

“What about October fifteenth?  It’s a Friday.”  I saw Neville and Hannah look at each other with open expressions.

 

Well, that was it then.  October fifteenth.  I leaned back into the couch next to Melody.  “Sounds good to me.  So, Muggle London, then?  Right.  I know you can do it, Neville.  You picked me up from Heathrow.”

 

“I still don’t know how I managed that, Hank.  Hermione and Harry coached me for a whole day before going.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

It was getting late and people had started to leave.  Eventually it was just Ginny, Harry, Melody and me sitting around the kitchen table having tea.  “You’re going to be the big attraction at Hogwarts, Hank.”  Harry nodded in my direction.  “Just remember to be yourself and don’t listen to the negative stuff.”

 

“Is that how you made it through?”

 

“Well, I had a lot of help.  Don’t be afraid to ask questions.  Neville and Minerva will be there for you, when she can.  A wise man once told me that help comes to those who ask for it, remember that.”

 

I glanced at my watch and realized it really was getting late.  “I really should be going.  I didn’t mean to stay quite so long.  Ginny, Harry, thank you for your hospitality.  It was a great afternoon.”

 

Melody stood up as well.  “I’ll take that as my cue as well.  I had a great time.  I’ll see you on Monday, Ginny.  Goodnight, Harry.”

 

Melody and I made our way to the fireplace in the living room.  “So, Professor Muggle, even though we have a date in October, that doesn’t mean we can’t go out before then.”

 

“Ms. Press Secretary, are you asking me out on a date?”  I stepped forward and put my arm around her waist.  “A real date, in front of everybody?  Even witches and wizards?  Or, gasp, even Muggles?”

 

“Yes I am, Professor.  I’ll owl you later.  Until then have a very good night.”  She leaned up and it was another good kiss.  Then she looked into my eyes.  “Besides, Mum wants you to come over for tea.  Goodnight.”  And with that she threw some Floo powder in the fireplace and said “Thorn Cottage.”

 

I didn’t know which one I was more nervous about, the first day of classes or meeting her mother.

 

 

 

-ooo-

-ooo-

 

 

Ginny walked into Melody’s office after practice, her hair still wet from the showers.  “Am I interrupting anything, Melody?”

 

Melody lifted her head from a stack of parchment and took off her glasses.  “Not at all, Ginny.  What can I do for you?”

 

After she put her large duffel bag down beside the chair in front of the desk Ginny sat down in an exhausted heap.  “Just thought I’d chat a bit before heading home.  I get tired so quickly now. “

 

“You’re already starting to notice it?  We might have to step up the recruiting.  Thanks again for having me over yesterday.  I really appreciated the invitation.”  Melody’s smile soon faded when she saw Ginny’s expression, though.  “Did I say something wrong?”

 

Ginny shook her head.  “No Melody, you didn’t.  I…well, I’m just worried that you might not know enough about Hank.”

 

“It’s not anything to be worried about, is it?”

 

“No, he’s not going to Azkaban anytime soon.  It’s just, well, did Hank ever tell you why he’s here?”

 

Melody shook her head.  “No, just what I read in _The Prophet_.  Am I missing something?’

 

“Maybe.  I don’t think he’d mind, after all he told us the first night he met us.  I just don’t want to see either of you get hurt.  Let me tell you the story.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Across town, at the Ministry of Magic, Hermione walked to Harry’s office and knocked, feeling nervous.  If the rumors she had heard were true…”Come on, Harry, it’s me.”  The door to Harry’s office opened and Hermione walked in, shaking her head as usual.  “Harry, you are a grown man.  This looks worse than Ron’s room at The Burrow ever did.”

 

Harry took an arm and swept a pile of parchment off of the chair and onto the floor.  “I know, Hermione, I know.  I know where everything is, though.  Usually.  What’s on your mind?”

 

Hermione sat down and looked at him sternly.  “Are the rumors I’m hearing true?  The ones about the kidnapping plan?”

 

Harry leaned forward and cast _muffliato_ on the office, then a locking spell on the door.  “I’m not supposed to say anything, but you know I really can’t keep anything from you for long.  If I didn’t say anything you’d get it out of Ron eventually.  It wasn’t a kidnapping plot, Hermione.  They were going to murder him and leave the body so it would be immediately found.”

 

“But why, Harry?”

 

“Because he’s a Muggle, Hermione.  He’s going to be teaching at Hogwarts.  Extremely high visibility.  We’ve got three of them in custody now, but there at least four more involved from what we can tell.  And with what has been in _The Prophet_ , now he’s a bigger target than ever before.  Kingsley and Robards have the best Aurors on the case and I’ve been helping when I can.  I know how you feel, I like him too, but I’m worried about him going outside of Hogwarts.  We can protect him while he’s on the grounds but it’s a lot harder if he goes to Hogsmeade or anywhere else.  Why do you think I volunteered to take him to Muggle London yesterday?  I knew I could protect him if anything happened.”

 

“Does Neville know?  He’s Acting Headmaster, he should know.  What about Minerva?”

 

“Robards is personally going over this afternoon to discuss it with Neville.  Minerva is aware of the situation.  I think I might have to go pay a visit to Melody to warn her.”

 

“Such a shame.  They seem to be getting along so well.  You know, I had a feeling about those two…”

 

“I’m not surprised.  You had a feeling about Ginny and me too, and that worked out.  But listen, Hermione, this isn’t as easy.”

 

“As easy as defeating Voldemort so you could finally get together?”

 

“Come on now, I’m being serious.”  Harry took off his glasses and absentmindedly rubbed his scar.  “You know Hank had to sign a lot of documentation with Percy and Kingsley, right?  That document took a lot of magical research to put together.  Because of his signature all the Muggle repelling spells and other anti-Muggle things don’t work on him.  But a big part of the document has a section towards the end where it talks about the end of the school year.  Hank’s going to have to make a decision, because Kingsley can’t have him leave after spending a year teaching and simply going back to the Muggle world.”

 

“Why not?  My parents know all about the wizarding world.”

 

“That’s different.  You’re a part of the wizarding world, so by extension, so are they.  They wouldn’t jeopardize anything for you.  This was part of the agreement that Kingsley has with the Wizangamot, part of the conditions of Hank coming to Hogwarts, the obiliviation section.  From what I understand they debated that part for a whole day.  But the long and short of it is at the end of the year, based on the agreement he signed, Hank’s going to have to decide whether he wants to stay in the wizarding world permanently or go back to being a Muggle.  An obliviated Muggle.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Arthur Weasley sat across from Kingsley Shacklebolt, his brows furrowed.  Usually he enjoyed visiting his old friend at the Ministry, but the previous conversation had not gone as he had expected.  Instead of lunch and the normal gossip about the Ministry, Kingsley had given him the details of the investigation regarding the murder conspiracy against Hank.  That did not sit well at all with Arthur.

 

“Did you ever think that something like this would have happen when Telephus presented you with the idea, Kingsley?’

 

“No, Arthur.  I anticipated some controversy, but never anything to this magnitude.  We know it isn’t the remnants of the Death Eaters, this is some new group.  Instead of focusing their hatred on those who aren’t pureblooded they are targeting Muggles.  We’ve kept it out of the papers, but there have been five separate attacks on Muggles in the last two months in Britain.  We’ve assisted the Muggle police, through very unofficial channels, but we have very few leads.  I’ve increased the wards at Hogwarts but I’d like to ask your permission to do the same to The Burrow.  I know he’s visited there several times, and I would feel better if you and Molly would keep an eye out for him whenever possible.  Harry has doubled the wards on Grimmauld as well.”

 

“He hasn’t told me that.  Has he told Ginny?”

 

“Not yet, Arthur.  He just completed it this morning.  If I know Harry he’ll tell her tonight.

 

“Molly and I will be happy to help.  I’ll take care of everything when I get home.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Ron opened the door to Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes and looked towards the counter, hoping to see George.  Instead he found a very bored witch.  In the sleepiest, weariest voice manageable she greeted him without raising her head from a book.  “Welcome to Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes.  You break it you buy it.  No refunds on half-eaten wheezes.  All products have antidotes.”

 

“Thanks, but actually I’m looking for George.”

 

The witch raised her head, popped her gum and her eyes were wide.  “Oh, Mr. Weasley!  I’m sorry, sir.  He’s in the back.”

 

Ron threaded his way through the aisles and found George in the back levitating boxes on to a shelf.

 

“Little brother, what do I owe this pleasure?  Need a love potion to get back in Hermione’s good graces?  Don’t know if I actually have anything that strong…”

 

“Not today, George.  You got a minute?”  Ron shifted his weight and looked around nervously.  “You trust the witch up front?”

 

George stopped levitating boxes immediately.  “Hmm, this must be serious.  I do trust her, but not that much.  Come upstairs.”  The brothers ascended a small set of stairs to the apartment over the shop, the small flat that George had called home since after the war.  “Sorry about the mess.”  George waved his wand and the door locked.  Ron took out his wand and cast a quick _muffliato_.  “Bloody hell, Ron, what is it?”

 

For the next twenty minutes the brothers discussed the conspiracy and the increased security required at Hogwarts, The Burrow and Grimmauld Place.  Then Ron paused for a moment.  “I can’t believe I’m going to ask you this, George.  Kingsley would like to know if you could do him a favor.”

 

“For Kingsley?  Sure.  He’s a friend, besides being the Minister of Magic.  What is it?”

 

Ron took a deep breath.  “You know Valencio, right?  Professor of Transfiguration and Gryffindor Head of House?  Well, he’s still not very well.  Quite ill, actually.  Something he picked up in Bermuda.  One of Neville’s reports to the Ministry that he has to put together about the instructors at Hogwarts mentions that Valencio has about a 50% chance of making it through the school year without getting too ill to teach.  Minerva’s health is, well, we all know how bad that is right now.  That’s where you come in.  Bloody hell, I still can’t believe I’m going to ask you this.”  Ron rubbed his hands together and took a deep breath.  “Kingsley wants you to teach Transfiguration and take over as Head of Gryffindor.”

 

“Bollocks.  You’re pulling a fast one, Ronnie.”  George was leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hands through his long, red hair.

 

Ron pulled a parchment out of his robe and handed it to George.  “It’s the truth.  Here, read it for yourself.”  He watched George unrolled the parchment and was very silent for a long time.

 

“Two conditions.”  George sat back and looked very pleased.

 

“What?”

 

“Tell Kingsley I’ll do it on two conditions.  One, I get Dolores Umbridge’s old rooms.  I can’t pass that up.  And two, the Ministry pays for my replacement to work here at the shop.  I suggest Lee Jordan.  He’s studying something or other, probably skirts, in New Zealand right now.”

 

“George, you know I can’t make any deals for Kingsley.  Merlin’s pants, I’m a just a regular Auror.”

 

“Well, just tell him I accept and that I’ll stop by later to work out the details.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

It was late, very late in the evening.  Neville sat at the Headmaster’s desk looking at parchment without really seeing anything.

 

“Either that is the most fascinating piece of writing ever produced or you have something on your mind, Neville.  I gather it is the latter of the two options.”

 

Neville turned his head to see Albus Dumbledore smiling at him.  “It’s the latter, Albus.”  Neville moved to the chair that usually sat in front of Dumbledore’s painting.  He’d been having more and more chats with him as the school year crept closer.  “I guess you’ve heard everything already.  Am I right, Albus?”

 

Dumbledore let out a long sigh.  “I’m afraid so, Neville.  Kingsley’s portrait of me is quite prominently displayed in his office.  He told me he placed it there for precisely an occasion such as this.”

 

Neville leaned his head against the back of the chair.  “You probably know more than I do, and he stopped by earlier and gave me the details, but let me summarize.  There’s a murder plot about to kill Hank.  Muggle attacks are on the rise.  The wards at school have been increased as well as at The Burrow and Grimmauld Place.  George Weasley is now going to be my Transfiguration professor and Head of Gryffindor, has requested Umbridge’s old rooms and that Kingsley pay for his replacement at his shop.  Minerva’s health is failing faster than any of us would have thought.  And I’m definitely not looking forward to this, but eventually I’m going to have to tell Hank about the choice he will have to make.”

 

“I wouldn’t be too hasty on telling Hank, Neville.  I have a feeling that will work itself out.  But to the other things, yes, I’m aware of what’s been going on, and I feel that you will be more important to Hank than you will know.  Remember, everything here is new to him, and I doubt that his knowing all the efforts regarding his security would let him experience things as he should.  I believe that he would feel too indebted to everyone to act normally.  It would always be hanging over his head.”  Dumbledore paused for a moment.  “It might be wise to have a small visit with Mr. Filch tomorrow.  I doubt he will enjoy George Weasley’s appointment as much as the students.  I also suggest informing George that the underground trade of Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes will, obviously, need to be curtailed.”

 

Neville shook his head slightly.  “I don’t know who’s going to take it worse, Filch or George.”


	7. You Can't Do ANY Magic?

**Chapter 7:  You Can’t Do ANY Magic?**

 

Since there was only one day before school started I was a nervous wreck.  I don’t think I was even that bad the first time I stood in front of a class.  I didn’t want to even go down to the Great Hall for breakfast so I had Nonky bring me up a small plate to my room.  I was about half way through breakfast when an owl arrived with _The Prophet_ as I had sent my subscription fee in the day before.  _Maybe that was a sign I was settling in._   Nothing could have prepared me for the front page headline, though _.  LOCAL BUSINESSMAN TAKES TEACHING POSITION._   There, pictured waving in front of his shop was George Weasley, the new Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts.  Apparently Valencio was sicker than I thought, but George?  That was going to make things interesting, to say the least.  I was surrounded by Weasleys.  Seriously.  There’s a Weasley if I went to the bank, if I went to a Quidditch match (a Harpies one, anyway), if I went to the Ministry…they’re everywhere.  Good thing I liked all of them.  I wondered how George was going to make it work with his shop and everything, but I figured if anybody could figure it out, he could.

 

I spent the rest of my morning going through my notes and going down to my classroom several times, only getting confused because of the moving staircases once.  The paintings were nice enough to point the way for me the first few times but after that they became bored and pretended to sleep.  I had just returned from lunch when another owl was at my window.  I had now learned not to laugh at them when they stuck their legs out to have messages removed; one too many nips from an owl will cure you of that in a hurry.

 

_Hank,_

_I know you start classes tomorrow, but Arthur and I would love it if you could join us for tea this afternoon.  If you can come please send your reply back via owl.  I regret to tell you that as the Floo network is no longer active at The Burrow, so if you can come please meet Arthur down by the school gates at 2pm._

_Molly_

 

I figured some time at The Burrow would probably help take my mind off things, so I sent my acceptance note back with the owl and tried to take my mind off of things by reading, but that didn’t work.  I must have gone through three pages of about ten books before giving up altogether.  Nothing to do but wait until it was about time.  I sat in my chair and watched absolutely nothing happen until it was time and then made my way down to the gates.  I wondered why Floo wasn’t possible anymore; maybe it was a maintenance issue.  At precisely two in the afternoon Arthur appeared with his normal handshake and enthusiasm, and after yet another side-along apparition we arrived at The Burrow.

 

After a warm greeting from Molly I eventually found myself with tea and biscuits in the living room.  Molly sat on the couch with me as Arthur brought in a large book.

 

“This is the one, isn’t it?”  After seeing Molly’s nod Arthur placed it on the coffee table in front of us.  Molly reached over, found her bookmark and opened it up.

 

“I borrowed this from my friend Sarah, she’s a librarian.  It’s a book of Wizarding Genealogy.  Now, you’d sent me your MacDonald ancestor’s names by owl, so I had a place to start.  But what about your family, Hank?  I don’t think I’ve ever heard you speak of them.”

 

Of course she asked this right after I’d taken a bite.  It never failed.  I finished chewing as rapidly as I could without choking.  “Well, let’s see.  There’s my Mom and Dad, Karen and Tom.  Dad’s full name is Franklin Thomas Boyd, but he’s always gone by Tom.  My sister Jennifer is two years older than me, and she’s married to John.  They’ve got two kids, Maddie and Oliver.  Maddie is four and Oliver’s two.  When they got married Jennifer did the whole Scottish wedding party thing, so that’s where I got my kilt.  Mom’s really big into the Celtic Games and stuff like that.  I’ve got two younger brothers.  Nate is a year younger than me and Ted is ten years younger.  Mom won naming Jennifer and Nate, and Dad won naming me and Ted, so that’s why Ted’s full name is Theodore Williams Boyd, after Ted Williams.”  I stopped and looked at Arthur and Molly.  Obviously they didn’t recognize the name.  “Ted Williams is a baseball player; it’s a Muggle sport in America.  He’s old and retired now, but Dad said he had the best swing that anyone would ever have.”  They nodded politely.  “Dad’s an insurance agent and Mom’s a retired caterer.  I got in trouble a lot as a kid for eating things that were supposed to go to some event.  Ted got it the worst, though.  He accidentally let our dog eat five trays of canapés one time.”

 

Arthur chuckled until he saw Molly’s face.  “Yes, that must have been quite a problem for your Mum.”

 

I nodded my head.  “Definitely.  She took away his TV privileges for a month.

 

“Tee vee?”  Arthur’s eyes brightened.  “Is that the box that shows…”

 

“Arthur!”

 

“Sorry, Molly.  Do continue.”

 

 _Arthur and his love of Muggle technology.  He would really freak out if I showed him computers._   “My mom’s side, the side that I sent you all the names on, is the MacDonald side.  My Granddad’s name was David William Macdonald, and my Gran’s name was Fiona Margaret MacDonald.  Her maiden name was Campbell.  I can trace back from them until right before the American Revolution.  Oh, sorry, um, whatever it is you call it here.  When the colonies rebelled, George the Third and all that.  Anyway, I can find that they landed in North Carolina but no record of them before that.  I’ve looked in passenger logs, you name it, but I can’t find any record of them.  Of course, it doesn’t help that my ancestors kept naming their sons Andrew and David.  Andrew had a son named David, and David had a son named Andrew, and Andrew had a son named David.  They weren’t very creative.”

 

“It’s not uncommon, Hank.  We see it all the time in the Wizarding world.”  Molly looked pleased and was smiling at me as if she had news.

 

“You’ve found something, haven’t you?”  I looked at her and she nodded.

 

“It wasn’t the easiest, but we found your ancestors in Scotland.  The reason why you can’t find them is that they weren’t Muggles, Hank.  They were wizards and witches.”  She opened the book and turned it towards me.  “Here.  Read this part.”

 

_David and Clara MacDonald, Crimpleton, Isle of Skye.  Emigrated to the colonies 1763._

 

“Are you sure, Molly?  My ancestors were magical?”

 

“Yes, I’m sure.  Sarah dug a bit further.  It seems the MacDonald men took a liking to Muggle women, as it seems most of them married Muggles.  And yes, you are a very distant relation to Dent-Head MacDonald.  Do you remember any stories about any of your MacDonald relatives that were, well, different?”

 

 _I couldn’t believe this.  Not only had I found my ancestors, but they were real wizards and witches._   I must have been thinking to myself for several moments when I realized it was very quiet.  “Oh sorry.  Spaced off there.  No, I don’t remember any stories.  Well, Granddad said that his Granddad got kicked out of a one-room schoolhouse for a while because he threw shotgun shells in the pot-bellied stove, but nothing like anything y’all can do.”

 

Molly smiled.  “Well, I’m not surprised.  It seems that even before they moved to America, your family’s magic was disappearing.  David and Clara were the twentieth generation of MacDonalds in your direct line that had a Wizarding-Muggle marriage.  Most of your family, I’m afraid, were squibs.”  She looked at me as if she’d just said ‘I’m sorry, most of your family was inflicted with a horrible disease that makes them fart in public a lot, but its ok.’

 

“What’s a squib?”

 

“A person from a magical family with no magical abilities.  It happens every so often, but when wizards and witches marry Muggles, it’s a lot more common.”  Arthur had explained all this in a very calm, patient tone, as if he was delivering very bad news.

 

Then it sunk in.  “So what you’re telling me is that my ancestors had magical heritage, but it was so diluted through marrying Muggles that eventually they lost all of their magic?”

 

“I’m afraid so, dear.”  She patted my arm.

 

Even though my ancestors were squibs, I was a Muggle, through and through.

 

I ended up back at Hogwarts after finally accepting a care package of goodies from Molly; she wouldn’t even hear of my polite refusals.  Eventually I sat on my bed and looked at my desk.  Tomorrow it would be filled with class rosters, seating charts and details on the students.  I leaned back against my headboard I kicked off my shoes, letting them drop to the floor.  I was not only a Muggle; my ancestors were failed witches and wizards.  Now I was going to teach all of my students about the Muggle world while they, the magical youth, could do things that my ancestors could do once upon a time on Skye.  It didn’t seem fair, but then again, what was fair?  Was it fair that I had done everything possible for Janine, even ignoring all those things that made me feel like a fake and then she dumped me?  Was it fair that I couldn’t get the teaching position in the university that I wanted?  Was it fair that my youngest brother was a successful businessman, that my little brother did great with his car dealership job and that I was stuck in Lowered Expectations University?  Not then, of course.  I was at Hogwarts, and school was starting tomorrow.

 

_Tomorrow.  Crap._

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

September 1st came on a clear morning.  I woke up at the crack of dawn then remembered that classes didn’t actually start until the next morning, the current night was the feast and the sorting and…my introduction to all of the students of Hogwarts.  _Please let them forget that picture with Harry…fuck, who am I kidding.  Of course they’ll have all seen it.  Wonderful.  Nothing like starting off on the completely wrong foot.  Wait, stop, stop, stop.  I can do this.  I’m a teacher, they’re just students.  It’s just like that Freshman Lit class last semester.  Except I’m in Somewhere, Scotland.  I’m wearing a lot better clothes, not to mention a robe.  The woman I’m dating is a real witch.  And my students could probably turn me into a frog or something.  At least the older ones._

 

Then it was the waiting game, something to do in an effort to calm my nerves.  I thought about going into Diagon Alley and get an owl.  Yeah, that was it.  Or not.  Maybe Neville could help…but he would be busy all day getting ready.  Everybody would be too busy to hang out, so I was going to be on my own.  After looking over my class schedules for the millionth time I eventually went to the Library.  A full library at my disposal and all the time in the world (ok, at least a 6 hour block of free time) so…Melody.  _That’s it._

 

I went to the owlery after writing her a quick note as I thought that maybe she’d have some time to get some lunch, go for a walk, something besides the nervous boring crap I was doing.  After sending the school owl off on its way I decided to go through with the library plan.  _Why not?  I’m sure it wouldn’t be the same types of books that I usually read._   Sure enough, ten minutes later I knew those books were not in my local library.  One book even tried to bite me.  Eventually I settled in with another History book, one that actually was about the Goblin Wars.  I knew I was reading just to keep my mind off of my nerves because I couldn’t actually tell you anything about the Goblin Wars.  For all I know they fought over the last chicken wing at someone’s birthday party or it was some torrid Goblin love affair gone wrong.  I ended up in the library until lunch, just slightly irritated that I hadn’t heard from Melody by then.  I kept rationalizing it in my head; she was busy in meetings.  She was on a trip and was a long ways away, making it hard for the owl to reach her.  Maybe the owl got sucked into a jet engine.  Wait, that one wouldn’t happen, would it?  Those are magical owls; they’ve got to have some sort of innate navigation and radar type thing to keep them out of the Muggle airline paths.  But what about small engine planes, like crop dusters?  Do they actually have crop dusters, or is that not done here?  Did a crop duster run over my owl, sucking the note into the propeller smashing it up until small bits floated down and the owl was only able to deliver the letter “r” to Melody?  That’s it, right now she’s sitting in her office at the Harpies headquarters being handed a small piece of parchment with the letter “r” on it wondering what the hell is going on.  _Yeah.  Right.  Get a grip._

 

I went back to my rooms and slumped in the big green chair. _Was I getting too wrapped up in Melody?  After all, I’d just really found out about the Wizarding world, maybe I should just relax and focus on teaching.  Then there was Janine.  Was I getting over Janine by just moving on to Melody?_ I didn’t know Melody all that well yet, after all.  But, I liked her.  She was nice, and that wasn’t a dismissal by any means.  Janine was pretty, but she wasn’t nice.  All of my guy friends told me that I was lucky to have Janine, that she was a great catch.  I caught my brothers checking her out in her swimsuit at the beach one summer, and then noticing my catching them they both flashed dorky ‘hells yeah!’ type facial expressions and hand gestures.  Janine is pretty much Melody’s polar opposite.  Janine is tall, with long blonde hair and wears what my sister calls ‘skinny girl’ clothes.  She’d liked the idea of me being a famous writer when we first met, but after she found out I was going to stay in academia, I don’t think she felt I fit the idea of the person she really wanted to be introducing to colleagues at dinner parties for the next thirty years.  Then there was Janine’s job.  Whoever she eventually marries will have to know that he’s marrying Janine’s job, then Janine.  Comparing that to what I knew about Melody, well…I didn’t know for sure, but I had a feeling that Melody wouldn’t mind if I didn’t become some famous author, she wouldn’t mind if I spent most of the winter sitting in a ratty cardigan by the fire reading books that I’d always meant to read but never got around to for some reason or other.  I didn’t know that for sure, but I wanted to find out.

 

It was the last part of the afternoon when the owl arrived.

_Hank,_

_Sorry it took me so long to reply.  Very busy.  This week is going to be hard for me to do anything, and next week looks the same.  Maybe the 11 th would work.  I’ll owl you when I can._

_I know you’ll do great at Hogwarts._

_Melody_

Wow, that was, um, underwhelming.  I guessed she was just very busy.  It was about time to go down and meet Neville for the night’s big events anyway.

 

 

-ooo-

 

I was sitting in the Great Hall watching the instructors begin to gather when George Weasley walked into the room wearing the most garish purple robes I had ever seen; granted, that wasn’t saying a lot but they were wilder than the pictures I’d seen of the Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes stuff.

 

“Good afternoon, Professor Muggle!”

 

“George, do I have to call you Professor Weasley?”

 

“Absolutely!  I’m teaching Transfiguration, I’m a Hogwarts Professor!  I swear, if Umbridge could see this…”

 

“I think Neville had to sedate Filch after he told him.  And really, the Professor Muggle thing is kind of getting old, George.”

 

“Never.  That’s what _The Prophet_ calls you, so you’re stuck with it.”

 

At least with George at the same table I wouldn’t be the biggest attraction.  George, besides being famous in reality as well as in his own mind, was well-known to all the kids who’d been into his shop.  It thought it might help distract for a while, but probably not.

 

I had just taken a very large drink of water when I heard Neville say “…new Muggle Studies instructor, Professor Boyd.”  I finished the drink quickly and stood up and noticed that pretty much every eye in the place was on me.  I gave a small wave and sat down.  That was over.  I didn’t pass out or barf or anything.  As I was taking another drink of water I started wondering why I was so freaked out…it had to be the higher level of difficulty as everything was new.  I was never that bad when I was teaching Literature or Composition or any number of the other classes I’d taught over the last few years.

 

The cheering brought me back to reality.  George, or Professor Weasley, was standing and acknowledging all of the applause and cheers, making triumphant hand gestures like a prize fighter.  This was definitely going to be an interesting year.

 

George had sat down and some semblance of decorum had returned when the Sorting Hat was brought out.  I had heard about the hat, and read a bit about it, but seeing the thing in action is quite different than what you can imagine.  I didn’t recognize any of the names of the students but eventually they all were sorted.  Neville went over how Headmistress McGonagall’s illness would limit her involvement during the year, how he was Acting Headmaster, Cho was the Deputy Headmaster and the Forbidden Forest was off-limits.  Finally, Neville cleared his throat.  I knew it was coming.

 

“And, as always, all Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes products are off-limits.”  He looked at George slightly.

 

George stood up.  “That’s right, they’re off-limits at Hogwarts.  And trust me; I’ll know if you try, because I invented most of them!”

 

I could see some movement at the Gryffindor table, especially from some of the older students.  They didn’t seem too happy.  I guessed the novelty of having George as a Professor and Head of House lost some of its luster if none of his “products” could be used.

 

The feast was great as the house elves completely outdid themselves.  I found myself talking to Cho for most of the feast, and she filled me in that I had arrived at the beginning of a new era, as Muggle Studies was previously only available to students after their first two years.  Now, in the era of change, Muggle Studies was available for all years of Hogwarts.  I began to ask George if he knew about the Muggle Studies changes, but he was busy with Neville.  I guessed they were still trying to figure things out; most likely George was trying to find a way around the ban on his products at Hogwarts, or a way to get the underground pipeline flowing again without any links to him personally.  Cho let me know that if I needed any help that I could speak with her, especially regarding the Fourth Year students.  They were ‘an enthusiastic group’ in McGonagall’s words, according to Cho.  I tried to look at the tables and figure out who those students were, but I couldn’t make out any differences.  I was sure the more challenging students would make themselves known easily enough.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Walking back to my room after the feast I found a small girl with a pixie haircut standing next to a painting.  She looked like she should be a first year, but I’m not good with ages.  The first years had been shepherded to their common rooms by prefects…she shouldn’t be here.

 

“Excuse me, are you lost?”  I looked at her further.  Maybe a second year.  Bright green eyes and freckles.

 

“No Professor Mug…”  She stopped immediately, her eyes got very big and a worried look crept over her face.

 

I smiled.  Sure I could have corrected her immediately and made it known that I did not like to be called Professor Muggle.  _But why?_   I never liked teachers that were sticklers for stuff like that.  “It’s ok; I expect that I’ll be called that by everyone.  What’s your name?”

 

“Ryder, sir.  Lavinia Ryder.  I’m a Hufflepuff now.  This is my first year.  I’m not lost; I was just trying to see if I could get the horse in the painting to come closer.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Lavinia.  I’m sorry if I scared the horse away, but if you need to be in your house you might want to head there.  I don’t know enough rules yet to know if you’re in trouble.”

 

She giggled.  “Thanks, Professor.  I’ll see you in class.”  With a quick turn she went down the hall and then down a set of stairs.  _Professor Muggle_.  Yep, I had a feeling that nobody would ever call me Professor Boyd at Hogwarts unless it was another instructor or I did something wrong.  I stood looking at the picture, trying to figure out if there actually was a horse in the painting when I heard a small noise.  It was Lavinia again.

 

“Yes, can I help you, Lavinia?”

 

“Um, I think Professors will just call me Miss Ryder.  Or Ryder.  And…um…”

 

“Yes, Miss Ryder?”

 

She couldn’t wait any longer and just burst out with it.  “You can’t do ANY magic?”

 

“Nope, not at all.”

 

“Wow.  Ok.  Bye.”  With that she truly was gone.

 

 

-ooo-

-ooo-

 

 

 

It was a few days later when I woke up depressed and tired.  After my disastrous “date” with Melody I was in no mood for anything except coffee.

 

“So how was your date, Hank?”  Neville knew that I was going out with Melody on Friday night.  It had been a good three weeks since I had seen her, so I had been excited about going out.  I’m sure he could tell that I wasn’t excited anymore.  He stopped and looked at me for a minute.  “Are you ok?”

 

I was sitting in the Great Hall reading Hemingway and drinking coffee.  When things were bad I always retreated to Hemingway.  Something about the short stories that hit me where it counts, and above all I could hide in them and block everything out.  From the look on Neville’s face I could tell he could guess that something was up.

 

“Well, let’s just say that I’m not going on the double with you and Hannah.”

 

Neville sat down across from me.  “I’m sorry to hear that, Hank.”  I could tell he wanted to ask, but wasn’t going to unless I gave him the go-ahead.

 

“Thanks.  What she said makes sense.  It just doesn’t make it easier.”

 

“You don’t have to tell me.”  Neville looked down to receive his cup of tea from a house elf.  “I understand.”

 

“No, it’s ok.  I could use a second opinion.  We never really did do anything like a date, we ended up going to a park and sitting on a bench.  That’s where she told me that she didn’t think we should date for a while, that maybe we could sometime in the future, but that right now I’m still getting over Janine and she didn’t want to be the ‘rebound woman,’ the one who I went out with because I just wanted to go out with somebody.  That she wanted me to go out with her because I wanted to be with her, not just have a woman in my life.  Kind of an ‘its not you, its me’ thing except this time it was ‘it’s not me, its you’ instead.”

 

“I’m sorry, Hank.  What do you think about that?”

 

 _What did I think about that?_   _That maybe she was right, that I didn’t really know her that well yet.  I want to get to know her, that’s what dating is all about, but she’s too scared because she thinks she might be the rebound woman.  I want to see that tattoo again, that she gives me a little flutter in my stomach when I see her, but now somehow I’ve screwed it all up again.  I wasn’t good enough for Janine or didn’t do something right in that relationship, and now I’m doomed to be a single man for the rest of my life.  Was she the rebound woman?_   “I’m not sure.  She did have a point, that I don’t know her very well.  But that’s the part of dating where you figure things out, right?  I don’t know if I’ll ever understand women.”

 

“I’m no expert either.  Hannah is the first woman that’s ever really been interested.”

 

“You must have had women interested in you, Neville.  I mean, come on, after the Battle of Hogwarts you were a hero.  Hermione told me that after the battle that women were acting like Ron was the greatest thing since sliced bread, sometimes even right in front of her when they were together.  You can’t tell me that you didn’t get any interest.”

 

Neville put down his cup of tea and had an irritated look on his face.  “They didn’t want to be with me, they wanted to be with the ‘Snakeslayer’ or whatever _The Prophet_ was calling me.”

 

“Yeah, that makes sense.”  Like anyone famous, Neville wasn’t sure if they wanted to be with him or the public image of him.  Maybe that’s what Melody was thinking as well.  I didn’t want to be with her, I wanted to be with a witch.  Was that true?  After all, she was the first single witch that I’d met since coming here.

 

“Hank?”

 

“Sorry, Neville.  Spaced off.  What was that?”

 

“I asked you if you still wanted to go into Diagon Alley.  I have to do some shopping and I wanted to stop by and see Hannah.”

 

“Sure, why not.”  Sure as hell beat grading papers or reading Hemingway.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Saturday afternoon in Diagon Alley is interesting when the kids are in school, as it’s nowhere as crazy.  The first stop was someplace called Scrivenshaft’s that does all of the quills and parchments.  Definitely not my type of place, as I was cheating on all of the official documentation I had to do by using an old fountain pen of my Granddad’s.  Quill work was not my specialty.  After telling Neville that I’d meet him later I began window shopping until I found myself in front of a shop called Ollivander’s.  The sign said it had been in business since 382 B.C. or something like that.  Without thinking I found myself walking inside.

 

The closest thing I could compare it to would be if you walked into the back of a car parts shop, as there were boxes upon boxes stacked on top of each other, like somebody had decided to stock every spark plug ever made for every car ever made in one place.  Eventually a pale, white-haired man stepped around the corner.

 

“Can I help you, sir?”

 

“I was just curious.  Is this where everybody gets their wands?”

 

“Most do, yes, most do.”  A look of recognition spread across his face.  “Ah, you are the Muggles Studies Professor, are you not?”

 

“Yes, that’s me.  I’m Hank Boyd.”

 

“Very nice to meet, you.  I’m Ollivander, this is my shop.”  He paused for a moment.  “You are a Muggle, is that correct?”

 

 _Everybody just had to remind me._   Normally I didn’t care, but with the mood I was in, it didn’t go over as easy as it usually did.  “Yeah, that’s it.  Biggest Muggle ever, I guess.”  I know I said that in a tone that wasn’t the nicest.

 

“Perhaps.  Are you on a schedule today, Professor Boyd?”  It still took me a while to understand the British ‘shedule’ instead of ‘schedule,’ so after momentarily translating I shook my head no.  Ollivander looked happy to hear that.  “I have always wanted to try an experiment.  Please, have a seat.  I’ll be back momentarily.”

 

For the next half hour or so Mr. Ollivander brought me all sorts of wands.  I’m not sure what he expected, but as the pile of boxes grew higher I wondered what time Neville would be finished and if he would ever find me in there.

 

Ollivander pulled out yet another wand.  “Maybe this one.”  I wasn’t expecting anything; he always said that, and let’s be honest, at this point I was just humoring him.  He handed me a very dark colored wand.  My stomach was instantly in my throat and I felt dizzy.  I looked down at the wand and watched a single red spark come out of the end, like a dud sparkler on the Fourth of July.  Ollivander’s eyes were big.

 

“Wave it around, wave it around!”

 

Feeling like an orchestra conductor I gave it a few swishes in the air.  Now it looked like the sparkler had been wet, was catching again, but was going to go out as the wand gave off a few more red sparks, but generally didn’t do anything else.

 

“Curious.  _Very_ curious.”

 

“How’s this possible, Mr. Ollivander?  I’m a Muggle.”  I looked at the dark wand in my hand.  “I can’t do magic.”  _What the hell had just happened?_

 

“My wands never lie, Professor Boyd.  You have magic in your blood.  It may just be a smidgen, but you do have magic.  An interesting choice, as well.  Black ironwood, 11 inches long, griffin feather core.  Very interesting.”

 

_Holy shit, I’m not a total Muggle._

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

My mood was considerably lighter.  Oh, who the hell am I kidding, I was ecstatic.  I’m not a complete fucking Muggle!  I may not be able to do anything close to what even the first years are doing, but I’m not a complete Muggle!  I walked through Diagon Alley for a while feeling like I’d just won the lottery when I found myself walking into the Leaky Cauldron.  Neville was at the bar, sitting on a stool and talking to Hannah.

 

“Neville, you’re not going to believe this!”  I sat down and started talking rapidly, telling him and Hannah about my experiences in Ollivander’s.

 

“Can I see it?”  Hannah looked at me from behind the bar.  I pulled out my wand.  _My wand.  MY wand.  I have a wand._   “It’s very dark.  What is it?”

 

“Black ironwood, and it’s got a griffin feather in it.”  _MY wand is black ironwood.  With a griffin feather.  Wow griffins actually do exist.  I know because I’ve got a feather from one in MY wand.  I’m magical.  I’m not a complete Muggle.  Anything is possible at this point.  Anything._   It was then that I got the idea.  “I just thought of something, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

 

I walked into Madam Malkin’s and worked my way to the Wizard’s section.  I was looking at scarves when I heard her walk up.

 

“Can I help…Professor Boyd!  So good to see you again.”

 

“Very nice to see you too, Medea.”  Very nice indeed.  If I had thought she was dressed for showing off her figure the first time I met her, then I was wrong.  This time beat that time by, oh, a hundred points.  It wasn’t as if she was showing a lot of skin; far from it.  She was just wearing things that accentuated the positives.

 

“We’ve got some new things in.  I saw them and just knew a few pieces would look great on you.”

 

“Actually, I didn’t come in to buy anything today.  I came in to talk to you.”

 

“To me?”  Medea looked at me feigning surprise.  “I would have thought you would be talking to all of the Harpies.”

 

Great.  Now that she mentioned the Harpies I thought of Melody for a second, and then banished that thought _.  Screw it.  She dumped me.  I have a wand._   “No, that was just a party I went to.  What are you doing on the 15th of October, Medea?  I was wondering if you would like to go out with me and another couple to Muggle London.”

 

A few minutes later I walked back into the Leaky Cauldron and sat back down next to Neville.  “The 15th is back on.  I have a date.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

That night I sat in my room with a cup of tea and read for most of the evening.  I had tried to make things happen with my wand, like have my books fly in the air or make Edgar talk, but nothing happened.  After a while the sparks didn’t even come out very much.  Giving up all hope of doing anything magical I decided to settle into the mundane and grade some papers.  I had made it through the first paper, which hadn’t been too bad, when I noticed the picture moving on the corner of my desk, the picture of Melody and me from _The Prophet_.  It was right then that I realized what I’d done, and that probably every woman I know would call me an asshole.  Ok, not every woman, just most.  The others would call me an arse.  Melody and I, even though we were just dating, or trying to date, had broken up and I asked out another woman the next day.  That was pretty shitty.  What were my feelings about Melody?  She made me feel comfortable, like I didn’t have to try to be somebody I wasn’t.  I could ask her questions.  I felt alive when I was with her, that I’d just walked into a really good movie.  She didn’t treat me like I was a stupid Muggle.  Well, the hell with it.  I put the picture in a desk drawer and went back to grading papers, wondering exactly how low a threshold there was before giving someone a grade of Troll.

 

-ooo-

-ooo-

 

 

Ginny Potter had just finished tidying up the house.  She was glad it was just Ron and Hermione coming over for lunch, as she didn’t have to clean at Molly levels for them.  Still, it wouldn’t do to have the house be messy, as Ron would probably end up telling their mother and then Molly would show up wanting to help again.  She’d endured that the week before, as her Mum had knocked on the door entirely too early and insisted on helping her pregnant daughter clean.  She’d managed to endure a couple of hours before feigning fatigue and going upstairs for a nap.  It was just easier to let her Mum do things than to try to convince her that everything was just fine as it was.

 

“What time are they coming over again?”  Harry walked into the room with _The Prophet_ tucked under his arm carrying a cup of tea.  He sat down, plopped his feet on the coffee table and opened the paper.

 

“Any time now.  Get your feet off the coffee table.”  Harry moved his feet down rapidly.

 

“Come on, Ginny.  It’s Sunday.”

 

“True, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have manners.”  She heard the knock on the door.  “Besides, they’re here now, go let them in.”

 

Harry folded his paper and went to the door to let his best friends in, receiving a kiss from Hermione and a nod from Ron.  After Ginny said her hellos they all ended up in the living room, drinking tea that Kreacher had provided almost immediately after sitting down.

 

Hermione knew the answer, but she just couldn’t help herself.  “Harry, you didn’t order Kreacher to…”

 

“No, come on, Hermione.  You know better than that.  If we didn’t let him do stuff like that he’d lose it.”

 

“Honestly, Hermione, you know they’re not like that with Kreacher.”  Ron looked at his wife and received a nice ‘oh, do you really want to push my buttons’ look.  A subject change was needed immediately.  “Seen the paper yet, Harry?”

 

“Not yet, just started to before you got here.  Anything interesting?”

 

“Professor Muggle’s in the news again.”

 

Hermione shook her head in exasperation.  “Ron.  His name is Hank.”

 

“I know, but that’s what everyone calls him.  I’ve heard the kids call him that, too.”  Ron looked at Hermione as if he was just explaining to her that water was, in fact, wet.  Then thinking better of it, he lowered his eyes and sank a bit further into his chair.  “That’s what George told me, anyways.”

 

Ginny laughed.  “You know, Ron, out of anyone in our family I would have thought that maybe Percy would be the teacher, but George?”

 

Harry’s Auror ears were on, so he looked intently at Ron.  “Why is Hank in the paper?  And what’s the latest from George?”

 

“I don’t know how they do it, Harry, but it seems like anytime he leaves Hogwarts there’s a photographer that shows up.  Here.”  He opened up _The Prophet_ , turned a few pages and gave it to Harry, folded to the page he wanted him to see.  “Our man’s good, though.  No sign of him whatsoever.”

 

Harry looked at the picture.  The inside of Madam Malkin’s showed Hank talking to Medea, and then she put her hand on his arm and kissed him on the cheek.  The black and white image kept repeating itself, and Harry wondered about Hank’s smile.  “What was he doing at Madam Malkin’s?”

 

Ginny started.  “What?”

 

She looked over at Hermione who had a discouraged look upon her face.  Ginny shook her head and said “Let me see that.”  Harry handed her the paper.  After taking everything in, she looked at Hermione.  “This doesn’t look like a conversation about trousers to me.  What about Melody?”

 

Instead of Hermione it was Ron who answered.  “Heard from George.  I guess Melody told Hank she doesn’t want to go out with him anymore.  Something about being the ‘rebound woman’ or summing like that.”

 

“Oh no.”  They all looked at Ginny.  “It’s all my fault.  I had a chat with Melody and told her to be careful, that Hank had just got out of a long term relationship and he might be…”

 

“Ginny!  Why on earth would you do that?”  Hermione was looking quite flustered.  “They are so cute together.”

 

“Well, Ron, we can tell Kingsley that’s one less Auror needed for surveillance.”  Nobody said anything, and Harry looked over to Ron.  “You didn’t tell her?  Wow, can’t believe that one.”  He took a deep breath.  “Because of all the things going on with the anti-Muggle group, we’re watching Hank and everyone he’s dealing with.  We’ve had Johnston watching Melody for a while, just to make sure nothing happens.”

 

Ron made a slight noise, as if he’d just stifled a hiccup.  “Don’t tell Kingsley yet, mate.  George said the reason Hank was in Madame Malkin’s was that he asked Medea out on a date.  The one he was supposed to go on with Hannah and Neville, but instead of taking Melody he’s taking Medea.”

 

“Poor Melody.  Oh I’m going to have to make this up to her.”  Ginny pulled her hair back and flopped it over her shoulders.  “He’s not making it easier on her, asking _that_ woman out on a date.  He’s really being such…such a _man_.  I hoped that Hank was a better person than that, even if he is a Muggle.”

 

“Yeah, Muggle, about that…I’m not so sure.”  Ron fiddled with his tea cup, and then looked at Harry.  “The really interesting thing is that George said that he bought a wand at Ollivander’s.  I guess he can’t do anything much with it except make it spit out a few red sparks, but still.  Raises some questions, doesn’t it?”

 


	8. I'm Glad You Didn't Get Blown Up

**Chapter 8:  I’m Glad You Didn’t Get Blown Up**

  
****

“Ok, everybody, stick together.  If anybody wanders off it won’t end well.  Trust me.”  Watching the fourth years all crowd around the big table I was seriously wondering if I hadn’t gone crazy.  _A field trip?  What the hell was I thinking?_   _Sure, we were just going to a Muggle museum in a decent sized town, but why did it end up being this class?_   After all, before I had even started classes Cho had told me that this class was an ‘enthusiastic’ group.  She lied.  It’s no wonder she’s the Charms instructor as she must have charmed me into believing she wasn’t completely off her rocker.  This class was horrible.  I’d already given out so many detentions to this bunch that it wasn’t funny.  They’d even started calling themselves “Filch’s Family” as they were with him so often.

 

“How long until the portkey?”   Ruby Smythe-Warring, as usual.  Hufflepuff and constant questioner.

 

“How long until you shut it?”  Carrick Frye, Gryffindor, and Ruby’s constant bickering companion.

 

 _Good grief.  Were those two ever going to stop?_   “How about you both shut it unless you’d like to just live with Filch from here on out?”  _So much for keeping a professorial tone._

 

I saw a curly brown head pop up from behind Ruby.  “Seriously, Rubes, bin it.”  Peter Sawgrass, Slytherin.

 

“Mr. Sawgrass, unless you want to be standing here by yourself after we’ve all left, I would suggest standing closer to the…”

 

The initial explosion silenced the classroom.  Everybody jumped when the fireworks started, the blue rockets shot around the room, bounced off of the ceiling, went under my desk and eventually out of the classroom windows as well as the door.

 

“That’s it!  No field trip.  Everyone back to their desks.  NOW!”  _Goddamn it, how did they get a hold of George’s stuff?  The pipeline was supposed to be gone._ They all started to head back to their desks and I thought I saw something.  “Miss Phillips?  Can you show me your hands, please?”  The Ravenclaw girl with the short bob haircut immediately put her hands behind her back.  _Seriously, you’re hiding your hands behind your back like a three year old that got caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar?_   “Miss Phillips, hands now, please.”

 

Slowly she took her hands from behind her back and showed them to me.  _Just what I thought._   There, in bright purple on the back of her hands was the Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes triple W logo.

 

“I think this calls for a visit to Headmaster Longbottom.  And ten points from Ravenclaw.  Headmaster Longbottom’s office.  Now.”  I pointed to the door.  She slowly picked up her books and headed out the door.

 

After walking up to my desk I sat down for a minute and looked at all of them.  The field trip day was shot now, no chance of making the portkey and I had no lesson planned.  Everything was based on working through what we would have seen at the museum.  _Shit_.  Except for Poesy Phillips, everyone sat at their desk as if they were expecting doom.  _Well, if that’s what they’re expecting, by God they were going to get it._

“Since Miss Phillips has decided we’re not going on a field trip we’re going to make the most of our time today.  Starting now and due Monday…” I noticed a hand go up in the corner.  “Yes Mr. Addison, at the beginning of class.  Monday I will expect one foot of parchment on how cars changed the Muggle world.”  Groans were heard all over the room.  “Are we trying to make it one and a half?”  The room quieted somewhat.  A hand went up.  “Yes, Miss Davids?”

 

“Professor, tomorrow is the Hufflepuff versus Slytherin Quidditch match.”

 

I nodded.  “Your point?”

 

“If we have to do all of that, then…”

 

I put up my hand to stop her.  “To be quite honest, you should all be so lucky that’s all that’s going to happen.”  I knew I shouldn’t, but I stood up anyway.  “Look at it this way.  So far this class has set my desk on fire, given me green polka dots on my face, turned my fountain pen into a slug, turned my coffee into something completely nasty, charmed my textbook into Chinese and let loose a group of, well, I don’t know what they’re called.”

 

“Pixies, sir.”  Peter Sawgrass sat looking at me hopeful that this might ease their situation.

 

It didn’t.

 

“Right, pixies.  Let a bunch of pixies loose.  This class has taken full advantage of the fact that I cannot do magic while every single other class hasn’t.  Do you even realize how much planning it took to get everything ready for this field trip?  That I had to have Harry Potter come out and do all the paperwork and arrangements to use a portkey in a Hogwarts classroom?  Yes, _that_ Harry Potter.  Now I’m going to tell him that all his work meant nothing.”

 

I stood and closed my eyes for a minute, then opened them back up.  It had done nothing to ease my anger.  “You know what?  I’m taking one point from everybody’s house.”  They seemed to relax.  “One point for each of you.  That means if there are ten Gryffindors in here that Gryffindor just lost ten points.  You do the math.  Right now I’m done with y’all.  Get out of my classroom and do not come back until Monday with your two feet of parchment.”

 

“I thought it was one foot!”  Ruby looked at me incredulously.

 

“Not anymore.  Out of my classroom.”

 

After that I was stewing as they had all left and I had some time until the first years arrived.  I was looking through the day’s lessons when I heard a knock and a familiar face looked in through the crack as the door eased open.

 

“Bad lesson?”

 

“Yeah, Neville, you could say that.  What is wrong with that year?  I mean, seriously.  None of the other classes takes advantage of my lack of magic.  Why that one?

 

Neville walked over and sat on the top of one of the tables.  “It’s just that way, some times.  I’ve spoken to Poesy Phillips about the fireworks.  I’ll be writing her parents.  She didn’t tell me what you gave her for detention.”

 

“That’s because I was so angry I didn’t even think about it.  Neville, maybe I’m not cut out for teaching teenagers.  I mean, I’m used to college.  If they don’t show up, fine with me.  I even tell them at the beginning of the class that if they don’t show up I really don’t care, as that means its fewer papers for me to grade.  I’m used to hung over freshmen and sophomores, not this age.”

 

“All of the other years get along well, though, don’t they?  Hank, that class has been like that ever since they were first years.”

 

“I wish I could do something with my wand, Neville.  Maybe that would make them behave.”

 

“I doubt it.  George had to threaten them all with a lifetime ban on his shop unless they behaved.  George Weasley, one of the creators of Weasley Swamp, clamping down and setting rules.  Hopefully they’ll all grow out of it.”

 

“If they live that long.  Oh, and tell Poesy that next week she’ll be helping Hagrid.  Hopefully with something nasty in the Forbidden Forest.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

The first year class went as it always did, wonderfully.  The schedule indicated that day was the lesson on telephones and mobile phones, so I brought my mobile in to show them.

 

“When I’m in the Muggle world I can turn this on and do lots of things.  I can call my parents, my friends, and they can call me.  We can talk to each other just like we’re in the same room even though we could be miles away.  If you have the right kind of phone you can even talk to people around the world.”

 

I noticed two Gryffindors chatting in the back.  “Miss Little?  Mr. Morris?  Am I boring you?”

 

Lizzie Little’s face turned red.  It was Alastair Morris who answered.  “No, Professor.  We were just talking about the tellaphaphones.”

 

“Telephones.  I’m glad you’re on topic, but please pay attention.”

 

The rest of the class went fine, and after dismissing them I noticed that Lizzie had stayed behind, standing at her desk.  My guess was that she wasn’t sure what to do.  “Can I help you, Miss Little?”

 

“Um, yes, Professor.  Um, how hard is it to get a mobile teltephone?

 

“Telephone.  How hard is it?  Well, it’s easy where I come from, but I’m not sure in the Wizarding world.  Why?”

 

“Allie ‘n me were trying to figure out if we could get them for this summer, so we could call each other.”  She blushed again and hid her face, intently studying her shoes.

 

 _Ah, that was it.  Romance_.  “Well, I’m not sure.  I’ll see what I can find out for you, ok?”

 

Her face popped up and brightened immediately.  “Thanks, Professor Muggle!”  With that she bounded out of the room.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Saturday morning came quickly, but I decided to have a ‘bit of a lie in‘ as they say here.  I was propped up in bed, drinking tea and working my way through the scones when I heard the distinctive _rap, rap rap-rap rap, rap rap_ on my door.

 

“Come on in, George.”

 

“Am I that predictable?”

 

“No, just obvious.  What’s up?’

 

George sat on my desk chair, backwards, with his arms over the back.  “Heard you had a bit of a problem with one of my products.”

 

“No, I think it worked fine.  It just shouldn’t have gone off in my classroom right before the big field trip.  You know how much planning went into that.”

 

“Yeah, I do.  Glad to see the Mischief Marker works, though.”  He was obviously very proud of himself on that one.

 

“Did make finding the guilty party pretty easy.”  I thought about it for a second.  “Let me guess, those are Hogwarts specials, aren’t they?  You’re still selling them, but…”

 

“They will mark whoever set them off.  Yep, guilty as charged.  I couldn’t stop selling to Hogwarts students.  I may be a professor, but I do have a reputation to uphold.  For Merlin’s sake don’t tell Neville.  Is it true you gave them two feet?”

 

I pushed my glasses to the top of my head.  “I did.  I’ve got to figure out some way to keep them from doing magic in my classroom.  I can’t do anything with my wand except make sparks every now and then.”

 

“I’ve got an idea on that one; leave it to me, Hank.  Now, to discuss more important matters.  You have a date tonight, correct?  Medea?”  He gave a wolf whistle.  “Now that’s a fine looking bird.  Melody is cute and all…”

 

“I’m not talking about Melody, ok?”

 

George shrugged at me.

 

 _I wished it was Melody, but that wasn’t going to happen._   “Besides, this is just a date.  I promised Neville and Hannah.  It’s just a date, George.”  I know my tone had changed, but I didn’t care.  I wasn’t going to talk to him about Melody and it was just a date.  With a beautiful witch, but it was just a date.  Nothing big.  “Nothing’s going to happen, trust me, George.”

 

 

-ooo-

-ooo-

 

 

I was wrong.  Completely and utterly wrong, as things must have happened.  When you go out on a date Saturday night and wake up Sunday afternoon in the hospital, something most definitely happened.  I looked around the room trying to make sense of things, but most of it was a big blur.  I remembered going to the Leaky Cauldron with Neville and meeting Hannah, then waiting for Medea to arrive.  We left shortly after she got there, and…that’s it.  Nothing.  _Crap_.  I put my head back into the pillow and sighed loudly.

 

“Dammit, where is everybody?  Hello, anyone there?”

 

I heard feet moving down the hall towards my room and the door swung open, revealing an elderly wizard with only wisps of white hair left on his head.  “So you’re awake, Professor Boyd.  How are you feeling?”

 

“To be honest I feel like shit.  My head hurts, my arm really hurts and I feel like I’m going to vomit.  What the hell happened?”

 

“You’re being treated for injuries at St. Mungo’s hospital.  Mr. Potter has asked to be notified when you woke up, and I believe he will be able to give you the full details.  I’ll have a Healer come check on you shortly.  Until then I want you to try not to move very much.  You’ll be healed up in no time.”

 

He patted me on the leg and left before I could ask him anything else.  _Great_.  Before I could complain about lack of medical attention Harry walked into the room and sat down by my bed.

 

“Glad to see you awake, Hank.  Gave us all a bit of a scare.”

 

“Thanks, Harry.  But do you mind telling me why the hell I’m in the hospital?”

 

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

 

“Leaving the Leaky Cauldron with Neville, Hannah and Medea.”

 

“Well, it pretty much happened after that.  There’s a group that the Aurors have been following, they’re a terrorist group of sorts that is anti-Muggle.  We don’t have an official name for them yet.  They’ve decided to target you as one of their prime objectives to show the wizarding world that wizards and Muggles shouldn’t mix, that Muggles are inferior.  They were going to use you as an example.  The Auror following you…”

 

“Wait, an Auror was following me?  Why?”  I sat up and looked at Harry, incredulous.

 

“For your protection.”

 

“How long has that been going on?”

 

“Pretty much since you got here.  After the announcement was made that you’d be teaching at Hogwarts we started noticing they had changed tactics.  Instead of minor things like disturbances or vandalizing signs with their messages they were after you.  There’s been an Auror nearby ever time you’ve left Hogwarts.”

 

 _Goddamn it.  I was being tailed?_   “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

Harry leaned forward in his chair.  “We didn’t want to worry you.  Plus we didn’t want to tip them off somehow.”

 

 _Fuck me._   “So what happened last night?”

 

After taking off his glasses and putting them on the bedside table, Harry took a deep breath and continued.  “The Auror assigned to you noticed things didn’t seem right in the area, things that Aurors are trained to notice; I’m not going to go into the details.  He had just called for backup when they attacked you.  Neville and Hannah held them off for the few minutes it took for the Aurors to arrive, but you took some pretty good shots.  When we got you here your arm was broken and your head was bleeding badly.  We ended up taking four of them into custody, but two of them got away.  Right now they’re in holding cells awaiting trial.”

 

“How about Neville and Hannah, are they ok?”

 

“Neville and Hannah are fine, just a few scrapes and such.  Medea hit the ground from the moment you were attacked and didn’t move.  She wasn’t hurt, she just didn’t do anything.  After hearing that we thought she might have been involved in the setup, but after Ron interrogated her we decided that she’s just, well, stupid.  We haven’t figured it all out yet, but we think she might have said something about your date that was overheard by one of the anti-Muggle group’s members.  Her inaction during the attack didn’t help her cause, but we don’t think she’s guilty of conspiracy.”

 

_Son of a bitch.  I’m a goddamn terrorist target._

 

Harry left not long after that and a few minutes later I heard them before I saw them.  A Healer was trying to limit their numbers, but she was not very successful based on the people who walked through the door.

 

“Oh Hank, how are you feeling?”  Molly Weasley looked at me as if I was going to break.

 

“I’m ok, Molly.  From what the doctor said I’ll be fine.”  She stood at the side of my bed along with Ginny and Hermione, and I noticed that Ginny looked a little pale.  “Really, Molly, I’m fine.  But Ginny doesn’t look very well.”

 

Ginny smiled weakly.  “Morning sickness.  Don’t know why they call it that, it’s after three in the afternoon.  We’re glad to see you’re ok, Hank.”

 

“We are, Hank.  We were worried.”  Hermione moved around to the other side of my bed and took a look at my head.  She made a bad face.

 

“It can’t be that bad, Hermione.”

 

She tried to look at me encouragingly, but it wasn’t convincing.  “Well, it’ll heal.”

 

Before anyone else could comment on my awful appearance the white-haired Healer came in.  “Two visitors at a time, please, ladies.  I must insist.”

 

Molly leaned over and patted my arm.  “That’s my cue, girls.  I’ll see you soon, Hank.  Just rest and get better.”  She walked to the door while the Healer waited for her to leave.  He wasn’t going to just trust her word, obviously.

 

Before leaving the Healer looked to Hermione and Ginny; “A half hour, ladies, and not a moment more.  He needs his rest.”

 

Ginny and Hermione each took a chair and sat by my bedside.  Ginny looked a bit shaken and very tired.  “Ron said you were very lucky.  Whoever tried to curse you missed horribly, you just got some of it and not the full effect.”

 

Hermione looked over at Ginny, who nodded her head.  “We came over as soon as we heard.”

 

I looked at the two witches.  _I know my head hurt, but did I hear that right?_   “How long have y’all been here?”

 

Ginny looked at her watch.  “Wow, I guess about ten hours on and off.  We took shifts.  I came over first, then Hermione.  Molly and Melody got here next, and…”  Hermione looked sharply at Ginny with the ‘you’re not supposed to say that’ look.

 

“Melody was here?”  _Wow.  That surprised me.  Huh._

 

“Merlin’s pants, where’s the loo?”  Ginny stood up suddenly, looked around and ran to the small bathroom, making it just in time.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

The women had been shooed out of my room eventually and I was left with a neighbor who snored and a woman who talked in her sleep.  _Wonderful_.  The old Healer had informed me that I would be there until tomorrow at the earliest, as they were still worried that my head wound wasn’t healing as well as they had hoped.  Now I was bored.  Bored.  Bored. Really freaking bored.  I didn’t have anything to read, nobody to talk to, and if that woman didn’t shut up I was going to go over there and douse her with the water from the pitcher on my bedside table.

 

 _Enough_.  I moved around and swung my legs over the edge of the bed.  Thankfully there was a robe hanging next to my bed from some sort of pole thing, so I put that on.  Didn’t want to flash my backside to the hospital staff.  I managed to steady myself a bit on the edge of the bed.  Still kind of woozy, as balance was not my best skill at that point, I ended up walking down to the waiting room area to get something to read.  The only thing I could find were old, beaten copies of _Witch Weekly_ , whatever the hell that was.  I tucked a few copies under my arm and had almost made it back when the Healers caught me.  They weren’t too pleased with me and let me know in no uncertain terms that I was not to get out of bed again, but I could wander the halls aimlessly if I wanted to spend an additional night in the hospital.  _Great_.

 

I propped myself up in bed and tried for a while to figure out how to turn on my lamp as there was no switch on the thing, and since I didn’t have any means of lighting the thing I hit the little button thing for my Healer.  I looked at the thing for a while before hitting it as there were no electrical cords or any means that I could see that the button was connected to anything.  _Magic_.  I hit the button and after explaining to the Healer what I needed she took out her wand and lit the lamp to a level that I could see but wouldn’t bother the other patients.

 

The clock said it was 2 a.m. when she found me reading _Witch_ _Weekly_.

 

“Good article?”

 

I looked up and saw Melody standing at the foot of my bed.

 

Melody, who didn’t want to date me anymore, who’d come to see me last night when I was unconscious, was standing in my hospital room, inquiring about how I was enjoying _Witch Weekly_.  “I guess it’s a good article.  I don’t know too much about household spells, and I’m pretty sure my wand work is below average.  How are you?”  _Holy crap, the woman who I actually wanted to date was in my room.  I knew I looked awful, too.  Figures.  Why did she come?  What do I say to her?  Our last conversation didn’t actually end very well._

 

“I’m well.  How are you feeling?”  She moved over and sat down in the chair beside the bed.

 

I put down the magazine and looked at her.  She looked tired; her hair was pulled back sort of haphazardly and she was wearing a Harpies sweatshirt.  “I’ve been better.  I heard you stopped by.”

 

“I was in the office talking to Ginny when we heard the news.  You had everyone pretty worried; you were a mess when they brought you in.”

 

 _She was worried about me?  Was it one of those ‘somebody I know was in the hospital things’ or was it something else?  If she’d come there had to be more to it than that._   “I’m glad to see you.  I didn’t know when I’d see you again.”

 

“Hank…”

 

I took a deep breath.  “I’m just going to say some things.  If it’s horrible we can both blame the head injury and potions they gave me and pretend it never happened.  I have to say that I was disappointed that you didn’t think we should see each other anymore, because I don’t really know you yet.  That’s what I was looking forward to, getting to know you.  I know you were in Hufflepuff, but I don’t know anything about how things were at school.  You went through the war; I don’t know what happened there.  I know you have a mother but you’ve never talked about your father.  I’ve never told you about my family, school, anything really.  I have no idea what music you like, what you like to eat, anything.  We just seemed to hit it off and, well, things got interesting fast.”

 

She smiled a little at me, and I decided to plunge ahead.  “What I was going to ask is if, well, we could take some time and get to know each other.  I hadn’t told you yet, but I’d been burned badly in my last relationship, which just ended before I came here.  I don’t want to screw up, because, well…shit.  You’re smart; you don’t treat me like an idiot when I’ve asked you Muggle questions.  Add on top of that that you’re very pretty.  I like being around you.  I’m not saying we should start picking out china patterns or anything, I’d just like to go out with you sometime and see what happens.”

 

 _There.  I said it all.  Sort of._   I know there was more but that’s what I could think of.  She didn’t look like she disagreed, but then I couldn’t read her at all.  She pulled her hair out of her ponytail and let it loose, then took off her glasses.

 

“I’m glad to hear that.  To be honest, I was a little worried about seeing you so soon after your last relationship.”  I guess I must have had a surprised look on my face, as she continued.  “Ginny talked to me one day.  She told me what you told everyone at the Potter’s dinner party.  I admit, I didn’t want to be the ‘rebound woman’ that you would date and then move on from right away.  Nobody wants to be that.”

 

“I’m glad to hear that.  I’m kind of mad at Ginny now, but I get it.  I would want a friend of mine to know something like that.”  I yawned.

 

“Looks like your potions are starting to kick in.  Go ahead and go to sleep.”

 

“No, I’m fine.  Just a little longer.  Will you come back later?  They’re supposed to let me out tomorrow.”

 

She put her hand on my arm and then stood up and cocked her head slightly to the side.  “Perhaps.  Get some sleep.”

 

I watched her walk out of the room and slid back down into bed.  I slept well that night, and I don’t think it was completely due to the potions.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

“What do you mean another night?  I’m fine, really.”  The Healer was looking at me and shaking his head condescendingly.  I’m sure all of his patients said that at one point or other.

 

He took a look at my chart and then flipped the pages back over.  “Your broken arm has healed perfectly but you sustained a concussion along with some severe abrasions and other head injuries.  This is standard procedure and you’ll be back in front of the classroom in no time.  If all of your tests go as we expect we’ll release you tomorrow morning.  Your job is to rest, that’s it.” He must have been able to tell I was going to object, so he cut me off.  “No grading papers or anything else, do you understand me, young man?”

 

 _Young man?_   Well at least I got that out of him; nobody had called me that since my Gran.  “Ok, ok, but I’ve got to have something to read.  I’m going nuts here.  _Witch_ _Weekly?_   Come on, there’s got to be something better.”

 

He assured me that suitable reading material would be found and left me to sit in my bed.  _Papers.  Crap.  The fourth year’s papers were due today.  I’m sure they were happy that they didn’t have to see me when they turned in their parchments_.

 

Finally a Healer brought me _The Daily Prophet_ and something called _The Quibbler_.  I should have known about _The Prophet._   The headline screamed _PROFESSOR MUGGLE INJURED IN ATTACK_ ; thankfully there weren’t any pictures of me, just a picture of Ron and Harry talking to the press outside of some official looking building.  I guessed it was part of the Ministry of Magic.

 

 _The Quibbler_ was awesome.  The lead article was about something called Nargles that I equated with Bigfoot, the Loch Ness monster or some other mythical beast.  Nargles were supposed to be invisible, which would help explain why nobody had found them, I guess.  After a few more articles I equated it with those tabloid magazines at the grocery store that talked about Bat Boy and crazy stuff, like Elvis’ ghost scaring some farmer’s cattle.  Infinitely better than _Witch Weekly._

 

I didn’t have any more visitors and eventually got a message from Ron that he’d be at the hospital the next morning to take me to Hogwarts.  I guessed it was an Auror thing rather than just a friendly help type thing, but that was ok.  After almost getting my head blown off by a Muggle-hating wizard or two that was fine with me.  Nothing else to do but wait.  Year old _Witch Weeklies_ were the only thing that kept me sane.  I really hate that magazine.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

“I’m glad you didn’t get blown up, Professor.”

 

“Thank you; now take your seat, Miss Ryder.”

 

The first year girl found her seat next to one of her Hufflepuff housemates.  First day back and the first class was the most interesting, as basically I blew about half of the time reassuring my class that, regardless of the head wound, I was not mental.

 

“I really don’t remember much, y’all.  I walked out of a door and woke up in the hospital.  That’s about it.  Now let’s get back to the lesson, ok?”

 

It was hard teaching Muggle Studies since a lot of the things that I wanted to show them, like computers, didn’t work at Hogwarts.  Actually, pretty much everything electronic I had didn’t work, not to mention the extreme lack of power outlets.  Besides, I had forgotten outlet converters, so I was screwed in that regard.  I had decided to take advantage of their love of Quidditch to try to teach some sports.  American football was completely out of the question; too many rules.  I decided that baseball, my first love, would be appropriate to illustrate a Muggle sport.  After all, it was fairly close to cricket and other bat and ball games.  I’d put pictures of baseball fields, baseball players and a scorecard up on the walls to help illustrate the game.

 

“Ok, I am going to assume with the extra day of studying you’re all up to speed on baseball.  Who can tell me what the sections of the game are called?”

 

No hands.  Not surprised.  Well, when all else fails make somebody answer.  “Miss Pennyman?”  From her reaction you would have thought that I had stuck a fork in the Slytherin girl.

 

“Um, outs?”

 

“Not quite.  That’s part of baseball, though.  Miss Drapier?”

 

“Innings?”

 

“Correct.  Five points to Gryffindor.”  The girl looked very pleased, and even though I pretended not to see it I saw a Slytherin boy (Crenshaw?  Have to look at that seating chart again) make a screwed up face that read that he thought she was an insufferable know-it-all.  “Unlike Quidditch, there are breaks in the game, as the teams have to switch sides.”

 

A hand went up in the background.  “Yes, Mr. Hinkup?”

 

“Since you mentioned Quidditch, Professor, can you tell us about meeting the Harpies?”

 

I sighed.  This was not in my lesson plan at all.  “From the only match I’ve seen they were very good.  They’re also very nice.  Now let’s get back to the lesson.”

 

Another hand went up.  _Good Lord._

 

“Does this have to do with baseball, Mr. Donne?”  His hand went down.  Then he thought about it for a bit and the hand went back up.

 

“Ok, what is it?”

 

“You’re not really dating Ginny Potter, are you?”

 

He looked over quickly at Lavinia Ryder.  I was sure she had her Hufflepuff housemate ask that question for her.

 

“No, it’s the blonde witch from Madam Malkin’s.  It was in _The Prophet_.”  Abigail Pennyman had turned around in her chair and answered Frankie Donne.

 

I had to stop them.  “Regardless of what you’ve read in the _Daily Prophet_ , I am not dating Ginny Potter, she is happily married to Harry Potter.  I’m not dating any of the Harpies or the witch from Madam Malkin’s.  Ok, we were on a date, but to be quite honest my personal life has nothing to do with baseball.  Anymore questions about my personal life and I’m taking away points.  Lots of them.  Now, Donne, since you’re obviously comfortable with speaking in front of the class, can you read the paragraph about pitching, please?  And don’t get too comfortable just listening, Pennyman, as you’re next.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

“So how was the first class now that you’re back?”  It was Neville.  I was trying to rearrange my teaching plans when he came in, and to be honest it was going horribly, so it was a welcome distraction.

 

“Not bad, but I think I spent about half the time talking to them about being in St. Mungo’s and all of the stuff that’s been in _The Prophet._   Are they always like that?”

 

“Not usually, but you are big news.  I’m glad you’re feeling ok.”

 

“I am.  I haven’t had a chance to thank you properly yet, Neville, but thanks a lot.  I don’t know what would have happened if you and Hannah hadn’t been there.”

 

Neville shrugged his shoulders.  “I don’t know, but I’m just glad we were.  Medea…”

 

 _Medea.  Right._   “Yeah, I heard she was useless.  She’s just a pretty young thing with a sultry voice, I’ve figured that out.  Listen, Neville, I do want to make it up to you and Hannah sometime.  There’s a chance that I actually might be able to double with you again, maybe this time with…not anytime soon, but sometime.”

 

“I saw her at St. Mungo’s.  Sounds like you two had a talk.”

 

He was smirking at me.  _Nice_.

 

“A double?  Maybe, we’ll see.”

 

 _Wait_.  “Neville, you stopped by St. Mungo’s?”

 

“Just for a bit.  But I need to talk to you about something.”  Now Neville looked nervous.  “Can you stop by my office after classes?  There’s something I want to discuss.”

 

“You’re not firing me, are you?”  _Great, now I was getting canned_.

 

“Oh no, I’m not sacking you.  No, nothing like that.  Just some things I think I can clear up for you.”

 

“Ok, no problem.  Sure, that works for me.”

 

“Great, see you this afternoon.”

 

With that, he walked out, leaving me wondering exactly what was going to be cleared up.  _Hopefully nothing horrible._

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

They filed in by ones and twos, placing their parchments in my hand as I waited for them by the door.  The fourth years were obviously not looking forward to my class, even with the extra time to complete their assignments.  After gathering all the parchment I deposited them in a big box and sat it by my desk.  They all looked at me in anticipation so I decided to play with them a bit.  I went over to the desk and sat behind it, pretending to write several things down.  In reality I doodled with a quill which ran out of ink almost immediately which reminded me that I couldn’t find my favorite ink pen.  I hoped they couldn’t see, as that would really break the illusion.  They lasted almost a full five minutes; I was impressed.  I drank some coffee which, a shock in that class, was still actually coffee.  This was the class that I had dressed for today, and I was wearing the tweed suit and a bowtie as I wanted to look every inch like the imposing Professor.  Eventually I got up and walked in front of the desk and sat on the edge.

 

“Ok, let’s get the questions out of the way.”

 

I saw a few hands go up, so I decided to beat them at their own game.

 

“Before I call on any of y’all, let me see if I can answer things.  I feel fine, I don’t remember anything, I’m not dating Ginny Potter, I’m not dating any of the Harpies, I’m not dating all of the Harpies, it was only a friendly date with the witch from Madam Malkin’s, I have no idea who the wizards were that attacked me and I do not have brain damage.  Does that cover it?”

 

Every hand went down.

 

“Right.  Let’s get to it, then.”

 

The rest of the class went well, as we were covering airplanes.  I explained that travelling long distances without brooms, Floo and portkeys was quite difficult and that airplanes were the Muggle solution to that problem.  I also explained that in the Muggle world sometimes the time savings of travelling by airplane was mitigated by the difficulties of air travel and explained security, among other things.  I had thought about covering how to fly like a Muggle on the final, but we had to work up to that.  It was hard for them to get their heads around the concepts at first, but eventually there was a good discussion on how air travel started.  I’d covered the Wright Brothers and how World War I helped usher in airplanes, so I was happy with their progress.  Now it was time for my surprise.

 

“Since we have managed to get through a class without someone turning my desk into an elephant or something else magical that I can’t undo, I have an assignment.”  Groans went up through the class.  “Your assignment is to come up with things in the Wizarding world that are completely foreign to Muggles like me.  I want you to separate into groups of four for this assignment.  It is due on Friday.  Until then I want you to work independently of class time.”

 

Poesy Phillips’ hand shot up.  That girl is a complete Ravenclaw, from what they told me of the Ravenclaw stereotypes.  Well, except for the mischievous streak.  “Yes, Miss Phillips?”

 

“Professor, the assignment is due on Friday.  What about the rest of class time today?  Or tomorrow?  And does that mean we have to work on it outside of classes?”

 

“Well, Miss Phillips, I believe it would make the most sense to let the class have the time to discuss the assignment.  It won’t be necessary to do that in the classroom.  Whether or not you work on it outside of class time is up to your group.”

 

“Professor?”

 

“Y’all can ditch the rest of class today.  I won’t expect to see you tomorrow.  Just have your assignment done for me on Friday.  I have lots of parchment to read.”  I watched them all gather their things and talk excitedly as they left my classroom as quickly as they could.  Maybe that would mean they’d stop turning my coffee into mud.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

I felt like I was walking to a tax audit when I entered Neville’s office.  He had me sit at a small table with him, not at his desk, which I took to mean that this was not an ‘official headmaster’ talk.  After he poured the tea I couldn’t take it any longer.

 

“Come on, Neville.  I’m kind of nervous here, what is it?  You’re really not firing me, are you?”

 

He laughed.  “No, Hank, I’m not ‘firing’ you.  From what I can tell Muggle Studies is going quite well, despite the problems the fourth years have given you.  I wanted to talk to you about that legislation going through the Ministry right now.”

 

“Why would you want to talk to me about that?  I’m the least magical person here at Hogwarts.”

 

“Precisely.”

 

“I don’t get it.”

 

“Hank, about that wand you bought at Ollivander’s.  Do you have it with you?”

 

“Mmmm, yeah.  I don’t know why, though.”  I put my hand in my jacket pocket and took it out.

 

“Can I see what you can do with your wand?”

 

“Sure.”  I waved it around for a while and eventually a couple of red sparks came out of the end.  “That’s pretty much it.  Why?”

 

“Albus and I have been talking.  He’s said that he’s chatted with Molly Weasley and she’s helped you trace your family back to some MacDonald wizards.  We think you might be the key to defeating the classification legislation in the Ministry.”

 

 _Whoa.  Me?_   “I’m not a wizard, Neville.  I’m a Muggle.  I doubt I can help you there.”

 

He tapped his fingers on the table.  “A pure Muggle could never make anything happen with a wand.  Hank, Albus and I think that you do have Wizarding blood, but it’s so many generations back that for all intents and purposes, you’re a Muggle.  But there’s still the fact that you can do that with your wand.  I think that there’s probably some Wizarding blood in most Muggles, but they just don’t know it.  Like you.  You would have never known except you came to Hogwarts, bought a wand and talked with Molly about your family history.”  He paused for a long stretch.  “Albus thinks that when the time comes, if you’d agree to it, your testimony and wand demonstration would stop this legislation in its tracks.  Would you be willing to do that?”

 

 _Testify in front of the wizarding government?_   “Neville, I really don’t know all the details here, but I’m more than willing to help out my friends.  Just let me know and I’ll do what I can.”


	9. Can You Cook?

**Chapter 9:  Can You Cook?**

 

Saturday morning found me pacing in my room, looking out of the window occasionally and very happy that I’d quit smoking, as I was stressed.  Well, not so much stressed as nervous.  After finally deciding to stop pacing I sat in my now favorite green chair and looked at the note again.

 

_Hank,_

_If you’re not busy Saturday, would you mind some company at Hogwarts?  I haven’t been there in ages.  It would be good to see the school (and you) again._

_Melody_

 

Of course I had owled back immediately that Saturday would be fine.  Now I was waiting, and not very patiently, for her to arrive.  I made sure that my room was as clean as possible, tried to fix my definitely-in need-of-a-trim-hair and eventually gave up and tried to read for a while.  I was marginally successful, but every now and then I’d look at the note.  _Was I over Janine enough that I could really date Melody?  It hadn’t been that long since Janine dumped me.  And she dumped me, was I not good enough for women?  Was there something wrong with me?  Then there was the age difference._

I settled back into Fitzgerald and had managed to make some headway through _The Great Gatsby_ when I heard the knock on the door.  In my haste to get up I managed to completely wipe out on the floor as I had not noticed that one of my legs had fallen asleep all the way up to my knee.

 

Her voice was somewhat muffled behind the door.  “Are you ok in there?”

 

“Yeah, just a sec.”  After managing to limp my way to the door, I opened it and Melody came in, but slightly different.  Her long hair was now cut into a single length bob that went just below her chin.  “I like your hair.”

 

“Thanks, thought it was time for a change.”  She walked in and put her bag down on my desk.  “So what are you doing today?”

 

“Nothing much, just some reading and grading papers.  You want to take a look around your old school?”

 

“Sure.  Why not?”

 

We walked through the Hogwarts halls and I tried not to be overtly obvious about looking at her.  She was wearing jeans, an untucked button down shirt and some sort of backless loafers.  I’m sure women know the real names of them, but I couldn’t think of it.  She smelled good, and walking alongside her I liked the way she barely came up to the top of my shoulders.  I’m not a tall guy, so this did well to feed my male pride.  She said hello to several paintings and greeted the Fat Friar as he glided through the hallway.

 

“He’s the Hufflepuff ghost, you know.”

 

I nodded.  “I do, I got an education on the ghosts when I got here.  Kind of weird to see them, to be honest.  Ghosts are just something in movies and stories in my world.  Well, now that I think about it, I’m not too sure.  There was that one tour I took about haunted Richmond…”

 

We had wandered into the Great Hall by then, and I wasn’t sure what to do next, and then I thought about what I would do on a date.  Looking down towards her I smiled.  “I could use some coffee.  Want to sit for a bit?”  She nodded and we took a seat at my usual spot.

 

Melody looked around.  “The view is odd from here; I’m used to sitting at the Hufflepuff table.”

 

“Right, your house.  So tell me, Miss Hufflepuff Tattoo, about your Hogwarts years.”

 

She laughed.  “Don’t tell anyone about that tattoo.  Nobody knows, and my Mum would have kittens if she ever found out.”

 

Our coffee was delivered by a very young house elf, so I took a sip of mine and waited.

 

“I was in Ginny’s year, but I wasn’t here for all of the…the horrible things that happened.  My parents took me out of Hogwarts before any of that.  We heard that things were bad, but it wasn’t until my Dad died that we knew things were really bad.”

 

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

 

She ran her hands through her newly shortened hair.  “It happened suddenly.  Both my parents attended Hogwarts, they were in Ravenclaw.  We’re an old ‘pureblood’ family, generations of witches and wizards.  My Dad, Hieronymus, was on his way home and two Death Eaters grabbed him; they wanted to know if he knew the locations of some Muggles and Muggle-Lovers, as they called them.  Dad had no idea, but they didn’t believe him.  They tortured him with the Cruciatus curse for hours until they finally got bored and killed him.  That’s what the Death Eater said at his trial, anyway.  Mum kept me at home until the end of the war and I didn’t talk to any of my housemates for a long time.  When the Battle of Hogwarts happened I was at home with my Mum learning how to knit.  I’ve never wanted knit since then.”

 

I didn’t really know what to say to that.  I could see that this wasn’t a topic she spoke about often, as her hair had fallen in front of her face, she hadn’t moved it out of her eyes and she kept looking at the cup of coffee on the table.  I had to do something, change the topic.

 

“So how did you end up working for the Harpies?”

 

“Ah, talk about stumbling into a job.  I wanted to be a Healer when I was at Hogwarts, but I’d always liked Quidditch.  I used to go to matches with my Dad.  There was an internship available with the Harpies one summer, and somehow they took me on and I started that.  After a while one month led into another and I never got around to being a Healer; I just kept working with the Harpies until one day I found myself with an office that said Press Secretary on the door.  Mum hates my job, but I guess I’m doing ok because they haven’t sacked me and I get paid.”

 

I nodded.  “I know what you mean.  I’m amazed that I’m getting paid for this.  Someone’s even given money to handle my expenses.”

 

“Well…”

 

“You know who it is?”

 

“If anybody asks me, I know nothing.  But you’ve dated his wife.”

 

 _That could only be one person._   “Harry?  Really?”

 

Her voice was sing-song and questioning.  “It could be, can’t say for sure.  He does give a lot to charity and other causes, though.”

 

“Interesting.  I might have to say ‘thank you’ next time I see him.”

 

“You do that and I’ll brain you.”

 

“I’ve had enough brain injuries for a while, thanks.”

 

Now her tone became a little more, um, irritated.  “Speaking of which, more specifically a _certain_ _witch_ …”

 

“Melody, she’s the only other single witch I know.  I promised Neville I’d double with him and Hannah, and I couldn’t back out again.”

 

“Hmmm…likely story.  I’m still not going to let you off the hook for that one so easily.”

 

“So I’m still on the hook, eh?”

 

“Shush.”

 

The rest of the afternoon went by lazily, as we said hello to a few students as we walked around the castle.  I saw Lavinia Ryder with her Hufflepuff girlfriends and she didn’t have the happiest look on her face.  Wasn’t sure what that was about, as usually Lavinia was quite cheerful.  Eventually we ended up back in my room and I graded parchment at my desk while she worked on her own papers in my big green chair.  I really wanted a camera to capture how she sat with a leg tucked underneath, the sunlight playing across her in big swaths.  Maybe George had a camera; I’d have to ask for next time, if there was a next time.  Eventually after talking for what seemed like just a few minutes the sun had disappeared and it was time for her to go.  I walked her to the main entrance and neither of us said anything for quite some time until I couldn’t take it any longer.

 

“I’m glad you stopped by today, Melody.”

 

“Me too, Hank.  Maybe I’ll come for the next Quidditch match.

 

“I’d like that.”

 

“I’ll see you soon.”

 

With that she leaned up on her tiptoes and gave me a kiss on the cheek.  I watched her walk far enough away from the grounds and then Apparate.  Walking back to the castle I noticed some students scurry out of sight.  _So much for keeping my personal life private._

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Later that evening found me in a chair in George’s room drinking butterbeer, trying to just relax.  He’d invited me up for a drink earlier that day when Melody and I saw him while walking through the castle.  I figured it wouldn’t hurt to get a male opinion on things, even if it was George.  Somehow I didn’t figure him as a romantic.

 

“Looked like things were going well.  She wasn’t hitting you or anything.”

 

 _I was right.  Completely not a romantic_.  “True, it was good.  If she can she’s coming up for the next Quidditch match.”

 

We talked about, well, I have no idea what it was, but I know I was in a good mood and talked about everything and nothing.  When I went to get another butterbeer from the cooler shaped like a dragon’s head I couldn’t figure out how to open the lid, which turned out to be a latch inside the dragon’s nostrils.  I think George was just waiting for the opportunity, and listening politely, as during the first big lull in my talking he hit me with it.

 

“So what about the ex-girlfriend?”

 

 _Fuck_.  _Well, why not talk about her?  It’s George._   “Well, Janine at first was great.  She actually listened when I talked about my classes and books, but I eventually found out she was just putting on a good act.  We seemed to get along ok, I guess, but after a while it was like we were just comfortable doing our own thing.  I’d never been with somebody for that long, so I just thought it was how people were in a relationship.  Looking back at it now I guess I pretty much did what she wanted.  I kind of stopped going to baseball games with my friends, and we never really hung out with my friends much, always her crowd.  She was always busy with her work, I mean, always busy.  She’d get on me about smoking a lot.  I used to smoke all the time, I guess I thought it made me look like Hemingway, but she put an end to that.  Not that it’s bad that I don’t smoke; it just wasn’t my idea, she told me I had to, so I did.  Then there was the cat issue.  I’d grown up around cats and wanted to get one but she said she was allergic, even though anytime we were at my parents’ place she’d never have any allergic reactions, and Mom has four cats.  I guess I thought that since we’d been together so long that it was just a given that we were going to get married.  My mom and sister hated her, though they never told me until we broke up.  I guess I should have seen the signs.  Most of the time I was happy when Janine was gone and I had the place to myself, and when she got home I knew there’d be something we’d fight about.”

 

“Doesn’t sound like you were very happy, mate.”

 

“Looking back I really wasn’t.  I guess I just didn’t know what to do about it.”  I took a long pull off the butterbeer.  “So what about you, mister successful businessman and now Hogwarts professor?  How’s your love life?”

 

“Wrong topic.  So…”

 

“Nuh-uh, George.  If I’m spilling then you are too.”

 

He looked like he was trying to make a decision, spinning the empty butterbeer bottle on the tip of his wand.  I guess he decided that I was ok, as eventually I heard about a woman named Angelina Johnson who had actually dated his twin brother Fred at one point while they were at Hogwarts.  George and Angelina had been seeing each other off and on for quite a while, but he hadn’t really told his family.

 

“You know how that lot is.”  He pointed his butterbeer bottle at me.

 

“Right.  Gotcha.  By the way, Melody told me about the owl you sent her about the badger.”

 

“I couldn’t let that one go.  Too easy.  Now what about that Medea?”

 

“George, she’s very pretty, but there’s nothing upstairs.  It’s all surface.”

 

“Nice surface, though.”

 

“True, but trust me.  Just flirt with her in the shop and leave it at that.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

 _The Daily Prophet_ sports page the next day was all about Ginny Potter’s retirement due to her pregnancy.  There were a couple of quotes from Melody in the article, and the Rita Skeeter editorial this time blasted Harry for making her retire from Quidditch.  I don’t think Harry and Ginny will ever win with that woman.  Luckily I was nowhere in the paper, so I read a few articles and the one piece that caught my eye was about the magical level or whatever thing that Neville and Dumbledore had talked about.  Hermione was quoted saying that it was another attempt by those who wished to bring back pureblood status to do something or other; to be honest I didn’t really follow all of it as I kept thinking about Neville’s request.

 

I spent the rest of Sunday morning just lazing around my room doing some more reading.  It was odd reading when it was so quiet.  I couldn’t use my iPod or listen to any CD’s, so I found myself concentrating on my reading more than usual.  I guess that was why I didn’t hear the owl at first.  By the time I got to the window the poor thing was almost exhausted; I didn’t know how long he’d been out there banging on the window trying to get my attention.  I let him in and unrolled the note.

 

_Hank,_

_Need help!  Can you cook?_

_Melody_

I laughed.  _Oh boy.  This was going to be interesting._

 

A few moments later I arrived at Melody’s house via Floo to find her in a complete state of frantic worry.  She grabbed my arm, and covered with flour said pleadingly “Please tell me you know how to cook!”

 

“Um, yeah, I’m not bad at it.  My Mom’s a retired caterer and I learned from her and my Gran.  Just calm down and tell me what’s going on.”

 

“I have to make appetizers to take to Ginny’s baby shower this afternoon.  I tried and everything came out awful and I can’t show up empty handed.  My Mum’s cook isn’t at home, Penny’s on tour and JoJo’s in Madrid and I haven’t been to Gringott’s lately so I don’t have the money to go to the shops, and oh Hank, help me.”

 

I looked at her, standing there in a t-shirt that contained several holes and was covered in flour, not to mention a ratty old pair of boxer shorts.  Her hair was a mess, she didn’t have on any makeup whatsoever and she was barefoot.  “How could I turn down a woman who looks this beautiful?”

 

“Oh hell.”

 

“Don’t worry about it.  Go clean up and I’ll see what I can do.”

 

Melody took off like a shot for her bedroom.  I dumped the black pieces of whatever she’d tried to cook in the garbage.  Those little bastards were hard as rocks, worse than the biscuits I had at Hagrid’s.  I looked through the kitchen and found some basic ingredients, enough to make cheese straws, one of my Mom’s standbys.  I’m not sure if they were exactly what are expected at a baby shower for a witch in Britain, but I knew the recipe and it’s what I could make.  Besides, I’m not a baby shower expert, regardless of country.  After mixing everything together and prepping I realized that I had no idea how to turn on Melody’s oven.

 

“Um, Melody?”

 

Her voice came from behind the bedroom door.  “Five minutes.”

 

I figured I’d be an awful guest if I didn’t clean, so I put all of the bowls and utensils in the sink and began washing up.  I felt her hand on my arm and her chin on my shoulder as she looked in the sink.

 

“Hank, what are you doing?”

 

“Washing up.  Why?”

 

“Is that how Muggles do it?  Seems like a lot of work.”

 

“It is, worst part of cooking.”

 

I turned off the water and wiped my hands with a towel.  Turning around I noticed that the Melody in front of me was quite different than the one that greeted me at the door.  She was wearing a bottle green dress that buttoned up the front and had a collar, the kind that reminded me of the dresses that housewives wore in the Fifties.  Her hair was done nicely and she was wearing just enough makeup to look great and not look like she was trying too hard.  I liked it.  Something was different though.

 

“You got taller.”

 

“Yes, I’m wearing heels.  I hate wearing them.  Mum says I should wear heels at work; give me more of a ‘sense of authority’ or some rot.  I’ll probably regret them in an hour or so.  So, what did you want?”

 

“How do I turn on your oven?”

 

“Oh.”  She took her wand off of the counter.  “Here.”  With a little wave the oven began pre-heating.

 

 

-ooo-

-ooo-

 

 

Hermione and Ginny sat in the living room, surrounded by baby things.  Hermione had her shoes off and Ginny rested a cool glass of lemonade against her forehead.

 

“You know, Hermione, I love them all, but I’m glad that’s over.”

 

Hermione looked around the room.  Thirty minutes ago it had held her mother-in-law, the entire Harpies team and staff, Luna Scamander and Hannah Abbott among others.  Now it was just the two best friends.  “I’m glad it emptied out when it did.  To be honest if I had to hear about Quidditch one more moment…”

 

Ginny laughed and took a sip of her drink.  “Thanks for putting up with that.  I know you wouldn’t do it for anyone else.”

 

Hermione shifted in her chair, a small smile on her face.  “I really thought those cheese straws were quite good.  They had a little bit of kick.  Was there was some cayenne pepper in there?”

 

“Melody brought those, didn’t she?”

 

Hermione hesitated, and then couldn’t help herself.  “Yes, but she didn’t make them.  Hank did.”

 

“Shut up.  How do you know that?”

 

“She told me in the kitchen.  She’d tried making mini quiches and they were horrible, so she owled Hank and he came over and made them.  Said when he got there she looked quite the mess.  I guess that didn’t scare him off.”

 

“I guess they must have had a talk at St. Mungo’s.”  Ginny arched an eyebrow at Hermione.  “You aren’t going to try and play matchmaker again, are you?”

 

“Why not, Ginny?  It seems to have worked for you?”

 

Ginny patted her stomach.  “It worked very well, thank you.”

 

 

-ooo-

-ooo-

 

 

It was approaching Halloween when the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff Quidditch match became the big event in all of my classes, as the two houses were close in the House Cup race.  Ravenclaw had been close until one of the girls did something nasty to a Slytherin girl.  My sources (the first years, they have no filters) said that the Ravenclaw girl was completely justified, as the Slytherin girl did something first.  I explained that the person who retaliates always seems to get caught so it was better to take the high road.  After seeing the Ravenclaw girl in question in the halls, though, I didn’t blame her.  It would be a couple of weeks, at least, before her hair grew back.  Hair or no hair the House Cup race was close, and the Quidditch match could help put one of the houses in the lead.

 

The weather had been growing colder, so I wrapped myself in my new long, blue scarf which had arrived by owl the day before.  Molly Weasley was obviously quite the knitter.  I met George at the door going towards the pitch.

 

“Looks like Mum’s struck again.  Nice scarf, Hank.”

 

“Thanks, George.  I like it.  It’s old-school Doctor Who length.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Right.  Doctor Who.”  I looked at his expression.  “Muggle thing.”

 

His face eased.  “Ok.  So which side you sitting on?  Are you sitting with a certain Hufflepuff?”

 

 _Dammit, George.  I had a feeling my ears were turning red._   “Yes, I am, actually.  I assume all of the Gryffindor Weasleys will be here?”

 

“Well, Ron will, of course.  He never misses a match if possible.  Ginny and Harry might turn up, but everybody else is busy or not that interested.  Dad was trying to talk Mum into it but she’s got him doing something.  Best not to get in the middle of that.  Now I’m off to be Official Head of House and whatnot.  Go Gryffindor!”

 

I found my way to the Hufflepuff side, said hello to a few students, and eventually saw Melody waving at me.  Her hair was covered in a knit cap and she was snuggled into her pea coat, collar up against the wind.

 

“It’s not that cold, Melody.”  I leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

 

“I know, but it’ll get colder.  I’d much rather be hot than cold.”

 

“If George were here…”

 

“I would instantly regret saying that, but since he’s not let’s let it drop, ok?”

 

She smiled and scooted over next to me.  If it would help, I was fine with the weather dropping below freezing.  The stands were filling up when I saw Lavinia Ryder and her Hufflepuff girlfriends sitting a row below us.

 

“Hello, Lavinia, ready for the match?”  I looked at her and it was obvious she wasn’t her normal, bubbly self.

 

“Yes, Professor Muggle.”

 

There wasn’t much enthusiasm in her voice.  She looked at her girlfriends out of the corners of her eyes, and then looked me in the eyes with a very serious look on her face.  “Why are you on this side?  You don’t have a house so we figured you’d be on the Gryffindor side.  Aren’t you friends with Professor Weasley and Headmaster Longbottom?  An’ Harry Potter n’ Ginny and Ron Weasley?”

 

“True, but I have a very good friend who was in Hufflepuff.  Lavinia Ryder, this is Melody Bramble.  Melody, Lavinia is one of my students.”

 

Melody put her hand out.  “Very nice to meet you, Lavinia.  Tell me, does the First Year girls’ bedroom still have that creaky floor?”

 

Then they were off, heads close together, discussing Hufflepuff girl things.  I guessed that’s what they were talking about, as it could have been nuclear thermodynamics; I couldn’t hear.

 

Professor Chang sat in the row above me to my right, so I talked to her about sitting on the Hufflepuff side.  She had decided that Hogwarts was feeling entirely too Gryffindor-centric for her tastes lately so she was doing her part supporting the other houses.  We talked for a bit and when I turned around I could see Lavinia look up at me for a moment, but then she began giggling with her girlfriends.

 

“What’s all that about, Melody?  Secret Hufflepuff stuff?”

 

“Nice rhyme.”  She leaned in and whispered “Actually, Professor Muggle, I think one of your students has a crush on you.”  She raised her eyebrows at me.  “She thinks I’m ok now.  I don’t think she was too pleased to see me with you on my last visit to Hogwarts or today.”

 

I kept my voice low.  “Really?  Are you sure.”

 

“Yes, I’m sure.  Now don’t you say anything about it or you’ll embarrass her to death.  Just remember little girls’ feelings are hurt very easily.”

_Big girls, too, but I wasn’t going to say that out loud._   “Ok, I won’t say anything.  What did you say to change her mind?”

 

“After she found out I really was a Hufflepuff we talked about a few things only we would know.  And I told her even though you’re friends with all of the grown up Gryffindors I wouldn’t let you favor Gryffindor students.  Among other things.”

 

“Is that the famous Hufflepuff loyalty?”

 

“Yes, now pay attention, they’re about to start.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

  1. Literally; they were spouting green steam like small volcanoes.



 

“It’s a Warmer Upper.  One of my specialities.”

 

A woman with dark braided hair walked up and put her arm on George’s shoulder.  “Drink them slow.  Trust me.”

 

George’s face lit up.  “Ah, Angelina, I’d like you to meet Melody Bramble and our own Professor Muggle.”

 

We exchanged greetings, and after about two seconds of conversation I thought that if Angelina was the same woman George was talking about the other night, then he was punching well above weight.  We ended up talking for several minutes and my impression was that she was a woman with a good head on her shoulders.  Hopefully she could rein in George, though I’m sure that was easier said than done.  Melody and Angelina went to talk to the ladies so George and I headed over towards the guys.  It’s funny that no matter what our age, the natural segregation seems to happen on its own.

 

“That was pretty short, wasn’t it?”  I looked towards the men.

 

“Yeah”, Ron replied, “usually they’re a lot longer.”

 

Harry nodded towards me.  “How are you getting on, so far?”

 

“Well, pretty good besides _The Prophet_ and near-death experiences.  I’m really sorry you had to come and do all the work for the field trip.  We never went, I had a student who…”

 

George stuck his head in around my shoulder.  “May have misused one of my products and put the kibosh on the whole event.  Sorry about that.”

 

I laughed.  “Yeah, you could say that.  Made ‘em give me two feet of parchment.”

 

Ron looked horrified.  “Two feet?  That’s bloody awful.  And speaking of bloody awful, could you please stay home on Sunday afternoons?”

 

I almost spit the drink of Warmer Upper that I had just taken all over Ron.  “What?”

 

“I get ‘Hank Duty’ the Sunday of Ginny’s baby shower, and I figure you’re just going to stay in and grade papers or summing, and I can go have a drink with Harry and the boys, but no.  You’ve got to go play house with Melody.”

 

“What do you mean, ‘Hank Duty?’  What’s that?”

 

Harry leaned in.  “Auror protection; remember, we talked about it at the hospital.  You’ve got a trace on you, so whenever you leave Hogwarts the Auror who’s responsible for your safety is notified.  That Sunday was Ron’s turn.”

 

George put his arm around me.  “What’s this about playing house?  Do tell!  I’m all ears.  Wait.  I take that back.  I’m all ear.”  He put the earless side towards me.

 

“She needed help cooking something for Ginny’s baby shower.  I just went over and helped her out.  That’s all.”  _Dammit, George.  I swear, if I didn’t like him so much I’d kill him._   “You can ask her yourself.”

 

George patted me on the back.  “Now, now, no need to get all tetchy.  We’re just happy that a Muggle like you can find a date.”

 

I looked over at George through the corner of my eyes.  “You don’t seem to have any problems in that area, do you, mate?”  Everybody’s eyes looked over at Angelina, who noticed and silently said “What?”

 

Ron nudged George.  “I think that’s your cue.”

 

Eventually the evening wound down and it was getting late when everybody decided to call it a night.  I helped Melody put on her coat and we walked outside Neville’s office.

 

“I’m going to leave with Ginny and Harry, so I guess this is goodbye.”

 

She was standing close to me, and found myself just looking at her deep brown eyes.  _She had come to see me in the hospital, she’d spent the day with me at Hogwarts, and she’d put her arm in mine walking back to the castle.  All the signs were pointing towards something positive, but I didn’t want to ruin it.  I had to let her know that I definitely enjoyed her company, but I didn’t want to muck it up.  How could I do that?  All those years of reading romantic poetry and literature, and I couldn’t think of the words._

 

“Hank, are you there?”

 

“Oh, sorry.  Just thinking.”

 

“Sickle for your thoughts.”

 

“It’d take a couple galleons at least.”

 

 _I could be the polite guy and wait.  But she’d snuggled next to me at the match; she’s put her arm in mine.  I was the one she called when she needed help.  I made up my mind.  Why the hell not?_   I leaned down and kissed her, really kissed her.  She responded back and I’m not sure how long we were like that when I heard a small noise behind us.

 

“Um, we need to get going, Melody.  I’m kind of tired.”  Ginny stood over Melody’s shoulder with Harry, both of them smiling.

 

_Great.  Busted.  At least it wasn’t one of my students._

 

We broke apart quickly, but Melody kept a hold of my hand.  When she had recovered, she looked up at me.

 

“Hank, are you blushing?”

 

“Probably.  I’ll talk to you soon.”

 

  1. Life was pretty damned good.



 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Halloween came and went with the best decorations I had ever seen, especially the mummy that had caused me to drop my tea, and the middle of November was upon me faster than I’d thought possible.  I’d been busy with my classes, and it seemed as if my students were actually getting something out of my lessons.  I’d talked with Neville about my idea for the final, and he agreed, but said that he’d have to do some research first, and we would have to take some precautions.  I felt like I should come with a warning label “May Attract Daft Reporters and Muggle-Hating Wizards.”  Someone had found me a Wizarding Wireless, so now I actually had some music.  I think you can call Celestina Warbeck music in some form, but I tended to ignore her or simply turn it off when she came on.  I couldn’t think of who in the world would like that music, but then again my musical tastes weren’t for everybody, so c’est la vie.

 

The fourth years were seemingly under control, as it had been at least a month since the last “let’s use magic on the Muggle” moment.  My visits with Melody had not gone unnoticed, as when I walked into my classroom one day after the Quidditch match the entire room was done up in Hufflepuff yellow and black with little almost transparent red hearts that floated intermittently from the ceiling.  It had to stay like that for the entire day as I couldn’t do anything about it and the third years accused me of Hufflepuff favoritism.  George, who took care of the situation after about ten minutes of laughing and ten seconds or so of wand waving, was impressed with the workmanship.  I guess it takes an artist to know an artist, or something like that.  The rest of the classes were fine, but I had the most fun teaching the first years.

 

After her talk with Melody, Lavinia Ryder was one of my best students.  I did overhear a Slytherin boy call her ‘Muggle’s Pet,’ after which she did something to him that made his quill catch on fire, but I pretended not to notice that.  Good for her.  I knew I shouldn’t be encouraging things like that, but I was still amazed that my first years could do things that I could only dream of.

 

Besides that little excitement it was the grind of education, the daily assignments, grading of parchment and planning of lessons.  Melody and I had sent some owls back and forth, and I have to say that the lack of a mobile phone, email and instant messaging had reawakened some letter writing skills.  My birthday and Thanksgiving were coming up, but I didn’t plan on celebrating either as I hadn’t let anyone know when my birthday was and Thanksgiving isn’t celebrated in Britain.  I doubted the whole ‘we’re celebrating because the Native Americans didn’t let us starve in our new home to get away from you English lot’ thing would ever catch on over here in the UK.

 

Due to the seemingly endless mini wave of monotony, I was surprised when Neville stopped by with a letter in his hand after class one day. “This came for you.”

 

I looked at the letter, with real stamps and my mother’s return address.  “How did this get here?”

 

“You know how we gave you a cover story for Muggles?  Well, part of that included setting up the post at a nearby village just in case.  We gave your Mum the address in case of emergencies.  I’ll leave you to your letter.”  With that he left.

 

 _Why would Mom be writing me?_   I tore open the envelope, tearing part of the letter in the process.  I had to piece it back together to read it.

 

 

_Dearest Hank,_

_I hope this letter finds you doing well in Scotland.  Your father and I are doing well, very well, actually, as he has finally decided to retire from his insurance agency!  I hope this won’t be a shock to you, but we’ve decided to sell the house and move to Florida.  We love the old house, but it’s just too big for the two of us now.  We won’t be leaving until August, so we hope you’ll be back from your travels by then.  We’re also dividing the furniture and other items between all of you children as our new condo is a lot smaller than the old house.  Your father and I just don’t need as much stuff anymore._

_The other news I have is that Ted is getting married on July Fourth!  He finally asked Candice to marry him in late September, and she accepted (Thank God.)  We’re having the wedding at the house, in the backyard, so make sure you can be home by then.  Ted wants you to be a groomsman and I didn’t think you would turn him down.  You’ll need to send me your measurements by early June.  Hopefully you aren’t wasting away hiking the lochs!_

_I wouldn’t be a mother if I didn’t worry about you, Hank.  I hope you’re doing well in Scotland and things are looking brighter for you.  Please tell me you’re getting enough to eat, you’re watching your language and that you’ve finally quit smoking.  You know how bad that is for you._

_Everybody else is doing fine.  Your niece and nephew are getting so big!  Jennifer and John came over with them at Halloween.   They were so cute, Oliver was a soldier and Maddie was the prettiest little witch you’ve ever seen._

I had to stop and laugh at that.  If Mom only knew…and actually I knew of a very pretty witch, one that I was dating.  I turned back to the letter.

_I wish you could be here for Thanksgiving and your birthday.  I’d save you something in the freezer for when you get home but you know your brothers, there won’t be anything left.  I hope you have a happy birthday on the 28 th and think of us.  We love you very much and miss you.  Please write when you can and let us know that you’re ok.  If I don’t hear from you soon I swear my hair will go completely grey._

_Love,_

_Mom_

 

It didn’t exactly qualify as an emergency, but it was information I did need to know.  My parents were moving out of the big house that I grew up in and my little brother was getting married.  _Holy shit._   He’d been Candice’s boyfriend since they were about eight, so Mom had hoped for years that he’d finally get around to making her an official part of the family.  She’d been an unofficial member for so long I almost forgot sometimes that they weren’t married.  They’d lived together for about five years, so I thought Mom must be happy that one of her sons was finally going to make an honest woman out of their girlfriend.  She’d never really said anything to me about Janine and me living together, but I could tell she didn’t like it.  Hell, she flat out didn’t like Janine.  After we broke up she mixed us some stiff vodka and tonics and pretty much told me that Janine was completely wrong for me and I’d done the right thing breaking up with her.  I didn’t have the heart to tell Mom that Janine broke up with me.

 

Then I started thinking about the dates.  It was going to be after the school year, Hogwarts would be out, and I wouldn’t be able to tell them about anything.  I guessed I’d have to actually do some hiking and take some pictures to flesh out my cover story.  An early Happy Birthday greeting reminded me of the parties at the old house when I was a kid, running around playing football inside and doing other stuff that started Mom down the path to grey hair.  You can always count on your Mom remembering your birthday.  Then there was the whole “measurements” thing.  _Great_.  The only place I knew that could do that would be Madam Malkin’s, and I wasn’t too excited to go back there.  _Fuck_.  Maybe Medea didn’t work there anymore or I could go in on her day off or something.  Well, that was months away.  But the wedding…I’d probably need to take a date.  Lord knows that my playboy brother Nate would have no problem finding one, and I’d never hear the end of his shit if I came by myself.  That little bastard is lucky I let him live when we were kids.  Of course I thought of Melody immediately as my date.  I was sure that conversation would go well.  ‘Listen, Melody, I have to go back to America for my brother’s wedding in July.  Would you mind going with me and pretending not to be a witch for a while?’  _Yeah, that would be easy._

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

I woke up on Thanksgiving morning not expecting anything and I wasn’t disappointed, as it was a normal Thursday at Hogwarts.  No turkey, football or sleeping in recliners for me; instead the fourth years finally had enough of behaving and someone had turned my desk invisible.  Not only was the desk invisible, but so were the contents, which included their lesson plan.  That ratcheted up the degree of difficulty for the day, so I assigned them another group project, but this time I divided up the groups so that the houses were mixed.  A foot of parchment on computers would hopefully teach them a lesson or two.  My guess was that if anything I’d just negotiated a temporary lull in Muggle teasing.  George took care of my desk, and again he muttered to himself about the talent involved.  It may have taken talent, but to me it was irritating as hell.

 

I was just about to head off to my room to relax before eating when Lavinia Ryder came running through the halls towards me, waving something in her hand.

 

“Professor Muggle!  Professor Muggle!”  She pulled up short in front of me, slightly red-faced and out of breath.

 

“Yes, Miss Ryder?  You know you could call me Professor Boyd on occasion.”

 

“Sorry, Profes…”

 

I smiled at her, “I’m just teasing.  Don’t worry, I don’t mind.  What is it?”

 

“Letter for you, sir!”

 

With that she handed it to me and ran off down the hall.  Why _was Lavinia Ryder bringing me letters?_   I opened it up and recognized the handwriting immediately.

 

 

_Hank,_

_After talking to my friend who attended Houdini, I found out about how much Americans love Thanksgiving.  Would you like to come to dinner at my place?_

_Melody_

_P.S.  Lavinia has agreed to be my special Hufflepuff on the inside.  I get such interesting letters these days.  I loved hearing about the hearts in your classroom._

 


	10. I'm Keeping the Shirt, Though

**Chapter 10:  I’m Keeping the Shirt, Though**

 

 

“It’s not that bad, really.”

 

I took another bite of bland, runny pumpkin pie.  Honestly, it was the worst pumpkin pie I’d ever eaten, and that included my sister’s.  Jennifer was much better now, but when she was learning…

 

“Yes it is.  It’s horrible, just like the turkey and the potatoes…Merlin’s pants, it’s all crap.  I’m so sorry.”

 

She looked like she was ready to cry.  There was no way I would let her know that it was the worst Thanksgiving meal I’d ever eaten in my life, and that included the year I was stuck in the airport and lived off of vending machines.  She’d gone to great lengths to give me an American Thanksgiving.  I took a big drink of coffee and forced down the last few bites of pie, hopefully without making a face.  She had really tried, but it was apparent that Melody was not a very good cook.  The emergency before Ginny’s baby shower was obviously not an anomaly.  It didn’t matter, though, as I was having a Thanksgiving dinner just with her.  Well, her and Churchill.  He’d jumped on the table at one point and was intent on having some turkey.  Eventually Melody had to lock him in her bedroom, which he did not like, as he intermittently let out some loud howling meows.

 

“You’re just being sweet.  You didn’t have to finish that, you know.  Bloody hell, I wish I could cook.”

 

She stood up and took the undercooked turkey and crunchy mashed potatoes and unceremoniously slid them in the garbage.  “Come on, we’re going out.  I will not have you go back to Hogwarts on an empty stomach.”

 

We ended up at a Chinese restaurant and spent the rest of the evening laughing and drinking entirely too much beer.  Sometime during our conversation I felt her foot curl around my leg.  This was the best Thanksgiving I’d had in ages, as it sure beat watching the Detroit Lions get killed on TV while some distant relative snored in the recliner.  Definitely beat the arguments and tension of Thanksgivings with Janine about having to go to my family’s Thanksgiving events.

 

“So, Hank, what are you doing for Christmas?”

 

“I guess I’m going to stay at Hogwarts.  Neville says that some students stay over Christmas, so I’m going to be there with the others that can’t see their families.”  At that moment I thought about the complete chaos that was Christmas at my parents’ house, and the idea of a quiet Christmas didn’t sound so bad.

 

“That’s nice, I’m sure the students who stay will appreciate that.”  She started twirling a piece of hair in her hands.

 

“What do you want to ask me, Melody?  I know you well enough so far to know that you’ve got something on your mind when you do that.”

 

She stopped twirling her hair immediately.  “I guess I must be pretty obvious.  Ok, here goes.  Mum wants you to come over for Boxing Day tea.  Are you up to that?  You don’t have to.”

 

“No, I’d like to.  Boxing Day is the day after Christmas, right?”

 

“Yes.  She’s been pestering me for a while now.  I swear that woman is relentless when she’s got an idea in her head.”

 

Well, I don’t want to make your Mom angry.  Tell her that I would be happy to come over on Boxing Day.”  I looked around the room for a moment and realized that we were the only people in the restaurant except for one man reading _The Daily Prophet_ in the corner.  “I guess it’s getting late.  I have to teach tomorrow, and I think my shadow is ready for us to leave as well.”

 

“Your shadow?”  She adjusted her glasses and then looked around the room.  “The man in the corner?”

 

“Yep, I’m pretty sure that’s the Auror on ‘Hank Duty’ tonight.  We should get him home soon.”

 

Melody wouldn’t let me pay for our Chinese, which was good as I’d forgotten my Wizarding money back at Hogwarts.  We walked back to her place and watched as snow began to start falling in very small flakes.  When we arrived back at the house I walked towards the fireplace with her, holding hands.

 

“I guess I’d better Floo back now.  Classes tomorrow, you know.”

 

She was standing next to me, her glasses pushed up on her head.  I could see the very faint echo of freckles on the bridge of her nose _.  Damn she smelled good._

 

“I know.  I wish you could stay longer, but I have work tomorrow, too.”  She came closer and put her arms around my neck.  “I won’t see you then, so I just want to give you an early birthday present.”  With that she leaned up and gave me a damn good kiss, one of those that almost makes you lightheaded.

 

We broke apart eventually.  “How did you know?”  She smiled up at me.  _Damn I liked seeing that smile._

 

“A girl has her ways.  Now off you go.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

I woke up Christmas morning to find presents at the foot of my bed.  There was a coffee mug in the shape of a Snitch from the house elves, a dark blue knitted sweater (or jumper, as they say) from Molly Weasley and a nice collection of books from Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Harry.  Neville had given me a plant with a note that explained how rare it was, as well as instructions on keeping it alive.  I was going to need his help on that one.  I saved the package with Melody’s writing for last, and upon unwrapping it I found a very impressive bound leather collection of Winston Churchill’s _The History of the English Language_ in five volumes; they weren’t first editions but they were very old.  I remembered that the versions I knew had four volumes, but apparently there was an extra volume in the Wizarding edition.

 

Luckily I had Hermione on my side to help out, as I had owled her right after Thanksgiving in a panic on what to get Melody and everybody else for Christmas.  I gave George the money to pay for everything, as he was seeing Hermione and Ron at The Burrow for dinner the weekend after Thanksgiving, so with Weasley Christmas elves everything had been taken care of.

 

I imagined Melody opening her present, and hopefully she liked the scarf.  It was a dark-blue one in the same fabric as Ginny’s red carpet dress.  Hermione had thought my idea was good, but she sounded a bit worried about the expense.  What else was I going to spend my Wizarding money on?  After all, I was at Hogwarts with no real expenses, thanks to my “anonymous benefactor” named Harry Potter, not to mention my salary.  Hermione had also been thrilled about my idea of presents for house elves and took it upon herself to select the perfect items.  As for everybody else I was clueless, but Hermione said she’d take care of that as well.  I also told her that even though it was worse than tacky, she was to pick herself out something very nice.  When I told her how much I was spending she was shocked, but it was the least I could do.  I hoped everyone liked their presents, especially the house elves.  I had no idea what the presents were, but I trusted Hermione, after all, if anyone knew more about house elves I hadn’t heard of them.

 

I spent the morning leafing though my new books and started up Churchill’s wizarding volume when Neville knocked on my door.  I let him in, but he didn’t look like he had good news.

 

“I’m sorry to bother you on Christmas morning, Hank.”

 

Whatever it was didn’t look like good news at all.  He was breathing deeply and looked pale.  “Its fine, Neville.  What’s wrong?”

 

“I just received an owl.  Minerva McGonagall passed away this morning.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Neville.  Is there anything I can do?”

 

“No, thank you.  I just thought you should know.”  With that he sighed, nodded his head at me and left my room.

 

_Happy Christmas, indeed._

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

The Christmas dinner was a somber affair, nobody seemed to talk much as the news had obviously spread throughout the school.  I ended up at a table with students from different houses and all of my attempts to spread any Christmas cheer were met by deafening silence or quiet, monosyllabic statements.  Hagrid made a late entrance, but the sounds of his using a handkerchief to loudly blow his nose only accentuated the feeling in the room.  I thought that Neville might say something to the students, but he looked lost in his own thoughts.  I knew he had planned to have Christmas with his Gran and maybe Hannah, but that obviously didn’t happen.  I guess the loss of Minerva combined with the fact that he was now perhaps the permanent Headmaster was weighing heavily upon him.

 

I went to my rooms with a swirl of guilt, grief and expectation playing around in my head.  I was sad that Minerva had passed away, but I didn’t know her very well.  To me she was a very nice lady who had given me one of the best presents I had ever received.  She’d given me great advice during our one lunch, and I knew she was respected by almost everyone.  I felt guilty because I wasn’t feeling as the others were feeling, but I knew that was just because I hadn’t been one of her students; I didn’t know her like they did.  As for the expectation, well Boxing Day was just hours away.  I was looking forward to seeing Melody, but meeting her mother…well, that was the part that made me nervous.  After looking though my closet for about an hour and trying to decide what’s proper to wear, I eventually laid my clothes out and tried to relax.  Easier said than done, I found myself looking through a book on Quidditch from Ron, mostly just reading the captions underneath the moving pictures.  Some academic I am.  Eventually I found myself thinking about Minerva again, and looked over at Balthasar.  The least I could do for her would be to support her friends.  That would be my role.  Somewhat settled, I finally turned in and slept like a very sound rock.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

“Are you sure I look ok?”

 

I sat on her couch wearing my grey flannel pants, white shirt and navy v-neck sweater.  The wingtips were hurting my feet a bit, but that was honestly the least of my worries.  Melody was gathering packages into a bag that was the size of a reusable shopping bag, and they were disappearing into it with no problem.  More Tardis ‘bigger on the inside’ stuff, but I really wasn’t concerned about that.

 

“Hank, you look fine.  Quite nice, actually.  Do try to not fall apart on me, it’s just my Mum.  And my Aunt and Uncle.”  She stopped in the middle of the room.  “Uh, and my cousin and her husband.  That’s it, really.  You’ll be fine.”  With the last of the presents in the bag she laid it on the chair.  “I’m sorry; I’d forgotten that we were doing Christmas with my Aunt’s family today.  Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”

 

“But I didn’t bring anything.  I feel like a bad guest.”

 

“You are most certainly not a bad guest.  You’ve been invited to tea.  It’s just tea.  We don’t have to stay long.”

 

“If you say so, Melody.  So, your Mom…any tips?”

 

She stood in front of the big floral patterned chair and let herself fall into its arms.  “Well, Mum is kind of old-fashioned.  For Merlin’s sake don’t let her know I have a tattoo, I’d never hear the end of it.  Other than that, just be your normal, polite self.”  She leaned back her head and rested it on the back of the chair, looking up at the ceiling.  “Just try and avoid talking about the war if at all possible.  We’re definitely leaving before she gets the firewhiskey out; Uncle Reggie will say something awful after he’s had a few.  He always does.”

 

She stood up and looked at the sides of her white blouse; telltale signs that Churchill had been in the chair before were all over her back as well.

 

“Um, do you have a lint roller around here anywhere?  I can help you out with that.”

 

She looked at me and grinned.  “You silly Muggle.  I’m a witch.”  With that she took out her wand and the cat hair was instantly off of her blouse.  “But you can help me with these damned heels.”  I stood by her and she put her hands on my shoulder while she slipped into her shoes.  “Please don’t let me fall in these things.”

 

After assuring her that I’d do no such thing, she took the bag off of the chair, took my hand in hers and we Apparated out of the house.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Melody told me previously that her Mom lived in a country home, and in my mind that meant a place like my Aunt and Uncle’s house in Minnesota, a smallish house on some land with a barn.  Obviously, a country home in England means something entirely different, as I thought I was walking onto a BBC historical drama set.  Even with the snow covering everything I could tell that there was a wonderful garden and landscape out front, and the house?  To my American eyes it looked more like something that the Royal Family would use on weekends.

 

_I.  Am.  Screwed._

 

As we were walking up the, um, driveway?  _The lane?  What the hell do you call it?_ Anyway, while we were walking up to the house two massive black dogs came out to greet us, or more likely, to warn us that we were definitely on their territory.  I stood still as Melody shook her head.

 

“I hate these dogs.  Most dogs I like, but these two…”  She took a deep breath.  _“MUM!  COME GET YOUR BLOODY DOGS!”_

 

I grew up around dogs, so I didn’t do anything.  I simply stood there and looked at two mastiffs barking at me like I was either their worst enemy.  Or lunch.

 

“Brutus!  Cassius!  Come!”  A very thin, tall blonde woman stood at the door.  Upon hearing her voice the two mastiffs turned and trotted over to her.

 

Melody leaned over and whispered “I hate those two.  I’ll make her put them away until we leave.”

 

“Really, it’s fine.  I don’t mind, Melody.”  With that she took a hold of my hand and we walked towards the door, her steps wobbling occasionally in the heels.

 

The thin, blonde woman reached out to Melody.  “Gwennie, so good to see you, darling.”  She held Melody’s hand and kissed her on the cheek.  “Your scarf is wonderful.”  Then she stepped back.  “Oh, what have you done to your hair?”

 

Melody looked slightly pained.  “Good to see you too.  The scarf was a Christmas present from Hank, and it’s called a haircut.  Mum, this is Hank.  Hank, this is my Mum, Lane.”

 

I extended my hand.  “Very nice to meet you, ma’am.”  She took my hand and held it very slightly.  A multitude of gold bangles on her wrist jingled as we shook hands.

 

“So nice to meet you, _finally_.”  She looked over at Melody after that last part.  “Now do come in before you catch your death of cold.”

 

Her hair was immaculately done and fell to just below her shoulders.  Her eyes were grey and I didn’t have to look long before knowing that her cream colored outfit must have cost a pretty penny, let alone the earrings and necklace.  I was completely out of my element.

 

As we followed her mother into the house I leaned down and whispered “Gwennie?”

 

“Later.  Come on.”  She led me through a very large entrance room until we arrived in what looked like a library out of a movie set, the fireplace was roaring and the light played off of the wood paneled walls covered in paintings.  I was holding on to her hand for dear life at that point.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Melody and I sat on the smaller, leather couch as her family unwrapped presents.  I didn’t recognize most of the items, so I chalked it up to more _Wizarding Stuff That I Don’t Get_.  As Melody unwrapped a cookbook ( _Beginners Cooking for Witches_ ) from her Aunt Emily, I looked at the family in front of me.  Uncle Reggie was wearing a bright blue tie with a sweater and tan pants, he looked about fifty or so and was in desperate need of a few years on a treadmill.  His wife, Melody’s Aunt Emily, was also tall, blonde and thin and several years younger than her husband.  Her legs were crossed elegantly and the black skirt was artfully draped over her legs.  I swore that instead of being with Melody’s mother and aunt I was meeting with several retired models.  The cousin and husband, Amelia and Clive more specifically, were a bit older than Melody and were quite reserved.  I don’t know that I ever saw them touch each other the whole time, and you could have sat Hagrid between them on the couch and still had room to spare.  So much for being newlyweds, as I had been informed earlier.  Everyone was very polite, but there was none of the warmth of The Burrow here.  When Melody excused herself for a moment the two mastiffs made their entrance, came over to me and made low growls.

 

“Brutus!  Cassius!  Please behave.”  Lane looked at me with a slightly apologetic look.  “I’m so sorry.  I do hope they haven’t given you a fright.”

 

“No, they just reminded me of a quote.  _‘Cowards die many times before their deaths, the valiant never taste of death but once.’_   It’s ok.”  I laughed a bit and extended my hand toward the dogs, palm out.  They sniffed me for a minute.  One of them decided he’d had enough and walked away, but the other began enthusiastically licking my hand.

 

Lane looked surprisingly at me.  “Shakespeare?  I’m impressed.  Not too many of my friends know where their names come from.  Cassius, stop that.”

 

The dog ceased licking and left the room.  At least the dogs were fairly well behaved.  “Before I came to Hogwarts I taught Literature.  I’ve always liked Shakespeare, mostly the tragedies.  Never been too fond of the comedies.  You must be a fan of Shakespeare or history to name them Brutus and Cassius.”

 

I felt the entire eyes of the room on me as Lane explained.  “The Witch’s Guild sponsored some performances; we were doing _Julius Caesar_ when I got the boys.”  She looked up at Melody, who picked that moment to re-enter the room.

 

“What?” Melody sat back down.  “What did I miss?”

 

“You never told us your…”  She paused, and then continued, motioning towards me.  “Your _friend_ was interested in the classics, Gwennie.”

 

Lane took a sip of tea.  I didn’t know how she managed to do that and look so elegant.  I know I had to look like a truck driver in a hurry drinking out of a little girl’s plastic tea set.

 

“Mum, it was in _The Prophet_ that Hank taught Literature before he came to Hogwarts.”

 

“That’s right, I remember reading that.”  Reggie looked pleased with himself.  “Professor Henry Aaron MacDonald Boyd.  Saw the pictures, too.  Kilt, eh?  And with Ginny Potter.”

 

 _This was the time that I had dreaded, Ask-The-Muggle.  I knew it was just part of the getting to know someone process, but this somehow seemed different._   “It was a formal occasion, and I was just helping out as Harry was busy with Auror stuff.”  _Stuff?  God, I must have sounded like an idiot.  Language!_

 

“Oh, so you’re Scottish.”

 

She spoke!  It was Aunt Emily, who I don’t think had uttered anything else besides ‘yes, please’ and ‘thank you’ the whole time I’d been there.  She commented on my heritage with a tone approaching ‘oh my, who has broken wind?’

 

I nodded.  “On my mother’s side.  I’ve been doing some research on my family tree, and I’ve traced them back to Scotland.  I couldn’t have done it without Molly Weasley’s help.”  After saying that things went oddly quiet for several awkward moments.

 

“Hank’s doing a great job at Hogwarts.  His students are doing very well in Muggle Studies.”

 

_Thank you, Melody for coming to my rescue._

 

Lane nodded politely.  “Muggle Studies, yes.”  Long pause.  “So sad to hear about Minerva McGonagall.  I’m sure she will be greatly missed at Hogwarts.  I know I was never one of her favorite students, but Hieronymus thought the world of her.  Gwennie, I know you thought well of her.”

 

“Yes, Mum.  She was wonderful.  I know she’ll be missed by all of her former students.”

 

I sat there and drank my tea, rationing it so that I’d have something to do so I wouldn’t have to talk much.  Everyone seemed as if they really didn’t want to be there at all, that they’d rather be anyplace else.  I know I would have.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

The official Boxing Day tea was finally over and things were coming to a close.  People were in different rooms talking about God knows what when Uncle Reggie looked at me and jerked his head towards another room.  I followed and when I got close he pulled a little flask out of his pocket.

 

“This stuff’s the only thing that keeps me sane at these things.”

 

I took the flask, downed a bit of firewhiskey and handed it back to him.  He took a long pull, and with a grin capped the flask and put it back into his pocket.  “So, Hank, seen her starkers yet?”

 

“Uncle Reggie!”  Unbeknownst to us Melody was close by; she walked up and smacked him on the shoulder.  “Honestly!”

 

Before anyone could do anything else Lane walked in and placed her hand on Melody’s upper arm.  “Gwennie?  A word please?”

 

While Melody followed Lane into the other room Reggie fished out the flask again.  “Here, take the bloody thing.  You’ll need it more than I will tonight.”  He took out his wand and tapped it against the flask.  “Almost empty, and that simply won’t do.  Charm should give you about ten refills, give or take.”

 

“Thanks.  I appreciate it.”  I looked towards the room with the now-closed door.

 

Reggie put his arm around my shoulder.  “Trust me; you don’t want to be in the middle of that.  If they don’t come out soon it’ll be another record.  I think it’s been five Boxing Day rows, or is it six?  I can’t recall.  She’ll be in a right state when you leave.”

 

I took a pull off of the flask and offered it to him.  He shook his head no.  “I take it they don’t get along?”

 

“Fair figuring.  Gwennie’s more like her Dad than her Mum.  I miss that chap; kept the birds sane.”

 

The door opened and Melody came directly towards me very quickly, only wobbling once in her heels.  “Time to say our goodbyes now, Hank.  We’re leaving.”  Her face did not look like she was very happy at all.

 

I shook hands with Reggie and then proceeded to say goodbye to everyone very politely, making special effort on not stumbling over my words when speaking to Lane, trying to be as polite and gracious as possible.  We then gathered our things and walked out the door into the cold.  I could see from Melody’s rapid breath in the cold air that she was not in a pleasant mood.

 

“Did I do something wrong, Melody?”

 

“No.  My Mum is impossible.  Let’s go home.”  With that she grabbed my arm and we Apparated away.

 

When we arrived at Melody’s place I ended up landing on my butt in the middle of the living room.  Apparating was not my favorite means of transport, to say the least.  I watched Melody lean down, take off her heels and throw them across the room.

 

“Bloody hell, Melody.”

 

“Don’t say that, Hank.  It sounds awful with your American accent.”

 

“Ok, Merlin’s pants or fucking hell, then.  What happened?”  I got up off of the floor and sat in the flowered chair.

 

“Mum is an awful person.  Do you know what she wanted to talk to me about in the library?  She’d heard that Brian Bottlesworth and Mafilda Kensington had broken up.  She said that he was such a nice wizard, and he was doing quite well at the Ministry.  Very good prospects and some rot.  She had lunch with his mother the other day and…”

 

 _I didn’t get it._   “Yeah, so?”

 

“Hank, she wants me to go out with him.  She said you’re too old for me, and…”

_I got it now._   “And I’m a Muggle.”

 

“Right.  She’ll probably take it out on Leeky.”  She stopped and closed her eyes for a minute.  “The house elf.  Honestly I wonder how I could ever be related to her sometimes, let alone be her daughter.  I mean, I bring you over for tea.  She nagged me for weeks to invite you.  She doesn’t like my hair, she thinks that it makes my face look fat and that I did it to make you happy.  It’s obvious to everybody in the house that you’re my boyfriend, and then she tries to set me up with Brian Bottlesworth.  As if.  He’s the last damn person on earth that I would ever go out with.  She kept going on about how you are only a few years younger than her, that you teach Muggle Studies which is beneath you.  That you have the brain for better things but obviously no ambition.  Most of all that I am being a silly little girl.”

 

As she was ranting Melody unbuttoned her blouse, threw it on the couch, then unzipped her skirt in the back and stepped out of it.

 

“You need to think of your future, Gwennie.  Think of all the problems a Muggle would have in the wizarding world.  Blah blah blah.  She’s gone mental.  That’s the only explanation I have.”

 

I had to admit, even with her as angry as that, I liked what I saw.  The Hufflepuff tattoo was moving rapidly, I guessed that it was more animated when her emotions were flaring.  _Wait.  Back up.  What did she say?_   “Did you just say that I’m your boyfriend?”

 

“Do you think I’d be standing here in my bra and knickers if you weren’t my boyfriend?  I’m keeping the scarf on, though.”  She walked over and grabbed my hand, pulling me out of the chair.

 

“Works for me.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

The next morning I woke up with Melody’s fingers rubbing the small bald spot on the top of my head.

 

“Are you going to be a cue ball or will you have some hair?”

 

The sheet was only partially covering her; even in my newly awakened state and without my glasses I could tell it was a very good view.

 

“I’ll have the stuff around the sides, eventually.  Nothing up front or on top, that’s what Granddad had.  Depends on your maternal grandfather.  Good morning, by the way.”  I leaned up and kissed her.  _Definitely a good start to the day._

 

“Good morning, yourself.  That won’t be so bad.”  She leaned up and bent an elbow, resting her head on her hand.  “I’m really sorry about that lot.  Now you know why I don’t like going there.”

 

“It’s ok, Gwennie.”  I smirked at her and watched her roll her eyes.

 

“Merlin.  My middle name is Gwendolyn, and that’s what my family called me as a kid.  I’m named after my Grandmum Melody Bramble, so to keep us straight they called me Gwennie.  Grandmum passed away years ago and they won’t stop calling me that.”

 

Churchill had heard us talking so he jumped on the bed, walked directly between us and flopped down.  I reached over and rubbed his belly.  He purred loudly and then took his paw and batted at Melody’s hair.  She reached down and scratched him under the chin.

 

“Yes, your majesty, I know you require breakfast.”  She reached over to the beside table and grabbed her wand.  “ _Accio_ cat food.”  A can of cat food came floating into the room and landed on the bed.  “Arrgh, Forgot the can opener.  I have to feed the royal personage now, but you stay there.  I’ll be right back.”

 

Without a thought she slid out of bed, and I watched her pick up my white button-down shirt and put it on, all the while walking into the kitchen, trailed by a vocal Churchill.

 

Moments later Melody came in and stood at the foot of the bed, hair disheveled and her curves making my shirt look much better than I ever could.  “Would you like me to make you breakfast?”

 

I remembered the last time she cooked, and the gift of the cookbook, and said “Why don’t you let me make breakfast?  I’ll show you the Muggle way.”

 

She laughed, and then looked disappointed.  “I’m sorry I’m a rubbish cook.  Maybe you could teach me sometime?”

 

  1. I don’t think I can do that.” 



 

“Well, don’t feel bad, because I’m crap at that as well.”

 

I like making breakfast compared to the other meals, but it is a pain, with all of the pans and dishes involved.  At the end I was happy with the results, over-easy eggs, bacon, sausages, toast, jam, some fried potatoes…all in all not a bad breakfast.  We sat at her little table, her still wearing my shirt and me in my boxers and t-shirt.  Cooking bacon shirtless is never a good idea.

 

“Good thing you can cook.  If it wasn’t for restaurants and takeaway I’d probably starve.”  Melody popped the last bit of toast in her mouth.

 

“House elves do it all at Hogwarts, so I’m a little out of practice.  I did some cooking at a truck stop when I was in high school.  Mom and Gran also taught me quite a bit.”  I took another big sip of tea.  _Damn, how did I get this lucky?_

 

“Hank?  Hank?”

 

“Mmm?  Sorry, spaced off there.  What was I saying?”

 

“Your Mum and Gran taught you to cook?”

 

“Yeah, Mom used to be a caterer.  Plus growing up I was always hungry, and Mom told me when I was about twelve, one night after supper, that she had closed the kitchen for the night and if I wanted anything I’d have to cook it myself.  So I did.  Learned how to do laundry the same way.”

 

“Well, at least you’re domesticated” she giggled.

 

“Thanks, I think.”  I took another sip of tea and remembered something.  “Melody, why did everybody go quiet when I mentioned Molly Weasley?”

 

She put down her tea and sighed deeply.  “Mum thinks that, for some reason, the Death Eaters that killed Dad were looking for Muggles and the Weasley twins.  You know Arthur and his love of Muggle stuff.  Even though there’s no proof at all Mum thinks that somehow it’s the Weasleys’ fault that Dad was killed.”  She shook her head disgustedly.  “Mum even had words with Molly once in Diagon Alley.  I was so embarrassed.”

 

The soft thumping of an owl was heard at the window, changing the mood entirely.  Melody got up and let the owl in, giving it an owl treat from the bowl by the window.

 

“It’s for you, Hank.”  She handed me the letter.

 

I opened it up and read it quickly.  _Damn_.  “I’ve got to go, it’s from Neville.  There’s a Hogwarts staff meeting this afternoon.  I guess it’s about what to do now that Minerva is gone.”  I stood up from the table.  “I guess I should be going then.”

 

Melody leaned up and kissed me.  “Well, you should be going, then.  I’m keeping the shirt, though.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

It was definitely more than a staff meeting, as Kingsley Shacklebolt, Percy Weasley and other wizards who looked Very Important were in attendance.  After a bit of milling around and sad small talk everyone found a seat.  Kingsley stood to address everyone.

 

“The Board of Governors has called this meeting to determine the Headmaster position for the duration of the term.  Before leaving today we will need a statement crafted to deliver to the press, as I have already had several owls inquiring about what we will do in the wake of Minerva’s passing.  I know I am not alone in grieving for her loss, but we would do well to remember her dedication to the students of Hogwarts.  In addition, plans must be made for the funeral, as I expect there will be a large number of attendees.  Due to the nature of recent events…”  Kingsley looked directly at me, then away “…security will also be of paramount importance.  Let us begin.”

 

After Kingsley sat down Percy Weasley began going through several rolls of parchment, reading them in a tone that I know he thought was very serious, but honestly it was putting me to sleep.  I tried fighting it, but couldn’t help myself.  I yawned.  I just hoped nobody had seen me.

 

“Didn’t get enough sleep?  Up late last night?”  The grinning face of George Weasley was leaning across the table.  I swear that man has a special sense of how to say something completely innocent and embarrass the hell out of me.  Before I could say anything he was moving around to sit next to me.

 

“Budge up there, Cho.”  Professor Chang moved over to let George slide in next to me.  “So, how was Boxing Day at the Brambles?”

 

“How did you know?”

 

“Ginny and Melody.  Girls, you know they talk to each other about everything.”

 

 _Oh shit.  Well, then again, who cares if everybody knows?  I would love to show off Melody_.  “It was awful.  I’ll tell you later.  We probably need to listen to this.”  I watched an older wizard in green robes stand up and start talking about educational consistency or something like that.

 

“Hell no, I’m only here for this year.”  George grabbed my arm.  “Come on, Cho will tell us if we need to be here, won’t you, Cho?”

 

“Yes, George, I’ll let you know.  From the sounds of it this could go on quite some time.”  Cho looked at her watch, and then back to George.  “They have a break scheduled in a few minutes anyway.  Just don’t make it obvious.”

 

For some reason we ended up back in my room.  George had looked nervous about going to his room, stammering something about ‘not the best environment for a man-meeting right now’ or something like that.  I sat in the green chair while George sat in my desk chair with his feet up on my desk.

 

“So, Boxing Day?  Met the Mum?”

 

I nodded.  “Yeah, it was awful.  Everybody there acted like they were just too, I don’t know…”

 

“Like they had a stick up their arse?”

 

“Yeah, that’s it.  Except for her Uncle Reggie.  He gave me an enchanted firewhiskey flask.  But they were, I don’t know, overly polite.  When I mentioned your Mom…”

 

George winced.  “Not the best play, there.  But you didn’t know that.  Mum told me about her and Lane Bramble in Diagon Alley.”  He made another face, and then looked worried.  “Don’t say anything to Dad.  She hasn’t told him and he’d go spare.”

 

“Sure thing, George.  But here’s the big finish.  At the end of the visit Melody’s Mom comes and gets her and they go into another room and have a big fight; we left pretty much right after that.”  I could see the comments coming, but there was no way I was going to be able to stop them.

 

“Well, Hank, I have to say it was rather interesting that we had to send an owl to you to tell you about the meeting.  You being a Hogwarts professor staying over at Christmas, not being in your room this morning.  For a meeting at Hogwarts.”  He was grinning like a total idiot.

 

“I stayed at Melody’s last night” I mumbled.

 

“Only got one ear, mate.  A bit louder, please.”

 

“I STAYED AT MELODY’S LAST NIGHT.”  I thought I might have said that a bit too loudly.  Now I was worried that the group downstairs or somebody in Wales had heard.

 

George must have guessed my fears as he nodded his head towards the door.  “Don’t worry, hit us with a _muffliato_ the minute we walked in here.  I’m brilliant at nonverbals.”  He swung his feet down to the floor.  “Good for you.  She’s a cute one.  Easy to tease, too.  I like that.  Can’t wait to see her again.”

 

“Don’t, George.  For me, please?  Just let her be for a while.”

 

“All right, all right.  I’ll take a week off.  At least we know you’ll be around for a bit, then.  Hate to see you leave after the school year ends.”

 

_Damn, I hadn’t even thought about that.  If I kept going out with Melody that would mean that I wouldn’t be able to see my family again.  Secrecy statutes.  Fuck me._

 

“Whoa, Hank.  What happened there?  You went all wonky on me.”

 

George actually looked a bit serious, which shocked me.  “Are you actually concerned or are you giving me shit?”

 

“Concerned.  It can happen, just don’t tell anybody.  What’s up?”

 

I told George my newly discovered fear that eventually I was going to have to choose Melody or going back to my family, as well as all of the things that Lane Bramble had said about me.  I also ended up going into how everything was so different with Melody as compared to Janine.  Melody thought about me more than herself, she did a bunch of little things that I was sure couples take for granted, but I didn’t.  I’d been through enough crap with Janine that I just assumed that’s how people in relationships were, that the stuff from movies and television and books was just fiction.  That most of all Melody made me feel like I was alive, finally living my life instead of hoping to.  And, most importantly, that she’d called me her boyfriend.

 

“Well, don’t muck it up then.”

 

“Gee, thanks, George.  That’s awesome advice.”

 

“No problem whatsoever.

 

A flash of light outside my window brought our attention away from the conversation.

 

“Oh hell, I forgot about Cho.”  George took out his wand and waved it a bit, and sure enough we heard knocking on my door.  I opened the door and an irritated Charms professor entered my room.

 

“Nice, George.  How was I supposed to tell you what’s going on?”

 

“Sorry, Cho.  What is going on?”

 

Cho walked over and sat on the edge of my desk.  “They’ve decided that Neville will be Headmaster on a conditional basis.  They’ll re-evaluate at the end of the year and if things go well he’ll be the new permanent Headmaster.  Minerva’s funeral will be in Scotland, any student who wishes to attend will be required to notify the Ministry so they can set up appropriate security.”  She looked over at George in an expression that could only be classified as exasperation.  “You know you missed the break and the second part of the meeting.  It’s all over now.”

 

“Best kind of meeting.  Over.”

 

Cho rolled her eyes and set out towards the door.  “Neville is pretty nervous right now, so any help you can give him would be greatly appreciated.  Try not to blow up your students or anything, George.  Goodbye, Hank.”  With that she was gone, leaving George chuckling.

 

George shook his head.  “Blow up my students.  Really, I’ll never know what Harry saw in her.”

 

 _Harry?_   “What do you mean, George?”

 

“She was his first kiss.  Room of Requirement.  Wonderful room, that one.  Just don’t mention her name around Ginny.  She’s still not too fond of her, and in her current pregnant state, Merlin knows what the results of that mood swing would be like.”

 

I laughed a bit.  “George, you really have a way with women.”

 

“Ah, speaking of that, um, Hank, I may need your assistance on something.”  I watched George take out his wand and muffliato the room again.  “The, uh, ah, reason, yes, the reason that I said we needed to come to your room to talk is, well, and I need some advice, some guidance…”

 

“Good grief, George, spit it out.”  I’d never seen this side of him.  What could be freaking out a man who had fought in the war, lost an ear, ran a very successful business and was teaching at Hogwarts (and doing it very well) with no instructional background whatsoever?

 

“Angelina stayed in my room last night and I need help to pick out a ring because I asked her to marry me and she said yes but not officially until I have a ring and we’re getting married on New Year’s Eve.”

 

“Holy shit!  Sure, I’ll help.”  Then I started laughing and couldn’t stop for a while.

 

“What’s so funny?”  He looked worried.

 

“If Molly knew what you just told me she’d absolutely kill you.”

 

“You wouldn’t?”

 

“Just remember that the next time you think for a second about teasing Melody.”  I was one up on George Weasley, Master Prankster.

 


	11. An Ending and Some Beginnings

**Chapter 11:  An Ending and Some Beginnings**

 

 

Neville said the portkey would be ready in about an hour, so I had enough time to pick up Melody.  The first public event that we would officially attend as a couple would be a funeral.  There had never been any doubt what I would be wearing, regardless of the temperature.  I had informed Balthasar of Minerva’s passing the day before the funeral, and I could have sworn that I saw the badger’s eyes become weepy.  After talking to Balthasar and putting him on I adjusted the sporran straps, put on a sweater under the heavy tweed Argyle jacket and looked at my watch.  It was time.

 

I Flooed over to Melody’s house and was met by Churchill, but after taking a good look at Balthasar he decided to sit on the windowsill and pointedly ignore us.

 

Melody’s voice came from behind the bedroom door “Please tell me that’s you, Hank.”

 

“Yeah, it’s me.  You ‘bout ready?”

 

“Just a few minutes.”

 

I sat down at the kitchen table.  It’s hard to tell exactly what to do at funerals; I’m always second guessing myself about saying something or doing something wrong.  I called to Churchill to have him come over but he looked my way then returned to looking out of the window.

 

“Does this look ok?”  Melody was wearing a very simple black dress with a cardigan and her hair was pulled back.

 

“You look very nice.”

 

“So do you.  Are you going to be warm enough?”

 

I opened Balthasar and showed her Uncle Reggie’s flask.  “I’ll be fine.  Insulation.”

 

She had a quizzical look on her face.  “Are you sure that’s appropriate?”

 

I took her coat off of the coat rack and held it out for her to slip into.  “No, I’m not.  I’m never sure what’s appropriate at these things.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

After using the portkey we arrived in a small village.  Looking past the small houses with dormant window boxes the church loomed proud and ancient at the end of a long lane.  The wind played fitfully around the bushes and tall grass, and I could see the ocean off in the distance.  A small crowd was walking up the lane, so Melody and I followed them, holding hands and not saying anything.  I finally saw a tall red-headed man above the crowd, so I guided Melody to him.

 

“Hello, Ron.  Hermione.”

 

Ron simply nodded back, as did Hermione, her eyes red.  I knew from the conversation on our tour how much Minerva had meant to her.  I looked around and noticed that there were more people than I had ever seen at a funeral, there were wizards and witches standing everywhere talking in low tones.  At one point I even thought I heard a man with an American accent but I ignored it.  Several groups of students stood slightly apart from the adults with somber faces.  I don’t know how long we stood there, until without any seemingly given sign the mass of people began walking into the little church.

 

The church was magically expanded to hold what seemed to be four times the size of the Hogwarts Great Hall.  Melody and I followed Ron and Hermione and found a seat in the pew behind Harry and Ginny, who was resting her head on Harry’s shoulder.  I had been handed a small program by a wizard when I walked in, and not knowing what else to do I looked at the words.

 

_Minerva Boudica McGonagall_

_Beloved educator and friend_

 

I didn’t get past that.  I simply put the program in my jacket pocket and held Melody’s hand.  Looking at the flowers all I could think of was when Gran passed, how I know that I went through all of the expected things but I didn’t really remember any of it.  Mostly I remembered my Mom doing ok until the end of the ceremony, when she simply broke down and cried quietly into my Dad’s arm.  It was like I had said to Molly, people never really leave us.

 

I was brought out of my reverie by Kingsley.  He walked up and stood at the lectern then looked down for a few minutes before raising his head to speak.

 

“Minerva McGonagall was many things.  A Member of the Order of the Phoenix.  A hero.  An educator.  A Headmistress of Hogwarts.  But most of all, she was a friend.  I know I am not alone in saying that for a woman of many talents, her greatest talent was to inspire us to greater things.  _The Daily Prophet_ printed that she did not have any children.  That is not true.  She thought of every child at Hogwarts as her child.  Look around this church and you will see students in attendance today.  Look closer and ask yourself how many former students are also in attendance.”

 

He paused for a moment, and then continued, his voice betraying no emotion that was easily read in his face.

 

“Her achievements are too many to list, and I know I would not do them justice.  Her legacy will endure, just as we will endure.  The lives she touched will not soon forget her.  I know I will not.”

 

Kingsley walked down and sat next to Molly Weasley, who was weeping openly next to Arthur.  I felt my throat catch and my breathing began to change its pattern.  _Why was this affecting me so greatly?  I had only known Minerva for a very short time.  She’d been nothing but kind to me and had given me a wonderful gift.  I didn’t get it._   Suddenly, though, I did get it; I was remembering a woman who had reminded me of my Gran, the hairstyle, the glasses, the kindness; it was as if I was at my Gran’s funeral again.

 

I must have been lost in my thoughts for quite some time, as the next thing I knew Melody was standing up and the service was over.  I followed her not really paying much attention, but when I stepped outside and heard the piper begin I was brought back to the world.  I didn’t feel as if it was proper to follow to the graveside so I stood at the edge of the churchyard with Melody, next to the low stone wall.  She leaned into my chest as I wrapped an arm around her.  I heard “Amazing Grace” play into the distance and watched the crowd move towards its destination.  I know my eyes were watching, but I don’t know if I actually saw anything at that point.

 

“Are you ok, sweetie?”

 

“Yeah, Mel.  I’m ok.  Just thinking about my Gran.”

 

“You must miss her.”

 

“I do, Mel.  I do.”  I looked down at her, and she had begun to cry softly.  “You’re thinking about your dad, aren’t you?  I’m so sorry.  I wish I could make things better for you.”

 

She gave me a smile through the tears.  “You do.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

We stood there in the cold as the wind intermittently blew through the churchyard, not saying anything for a long time until eventually people began walking back towards the church.  Harry and Ginny walked slowly, and heads down, holding hands.  In due course they reached us; Harry put out his hand and I shook it solemnly.

 

“You’re welcome to come over to Grimmauld Place.  Ron and Hermione and the others will be there, so please stop by.”

 

I nodded my head.  “Sure thing, Harry.  We’d be happy to.”

 

We followed Harry and Ginny to the apparition spot alongside other witches and wizards, and at the appointed time we arrived in a high field that was swept with powdery snow.  Across in the distance I saw high hills capped with snow, and down in the valley a small group of houses, with smoke that spiraled out of the chimneys.  Some people hugged, others shook hands and said quiet words to each other.  Harry and Ginny disappeared, and after looking up and holding onto my hand tightly, Melody and I Apparated away.

 

We arrived outside Grimmauld Place and followed Harry and Ginny inside.  I took our coats and hung them up on a coat rack, then became the unofficial doorman.  Hermione and Ron soon arrived, then George, Angelina and the entire Weasley family and their spouses.  After Neville and Hannah arrived I figured it was time to see how Melody was doing, so I left the door to Harry, as he’d come over to “rescue me.”  He’d taken off his jacket, unbuttoned the top button on his shirt and loosened his tie at that point.

 

He pointed behind his left shoulder.  “She’s in the kitchen.”

 

I almost made it to the kitchen before I was intercepted by Hermione.  “It looks like things are going well with you and Melody.  I…”

 

“Had a feeling, I know Hermione.  I appreciate it, but you know it’s not always that easy.”

 

“Oh, trust me, I know.  I’m married to Ron.  That’s definitely a long story.  Go on, she’s in the kitchen.”

 

I had just stepped away from Hermione when I ran into George, literally.

 

“Sorry, Hank.  If you’re looking for Melody…”

 

“She’s in the kitchen.  I know.”  Then I remembered my promise.  “Hey George, you doing anything tomorrow?”

 

“No, that’d be great.  I keep worrying that I’ll spill the beans and Ang will kill me.”

 

_I realized that we had just been talking about an engagement ring after a funeral.  In the midst of death is life, and in the midst of life is death._

 

“Earth to Hank, you there?”  He waved a hand in front of my face.

 

“Sorry, just thinking it’s weird…”

 

“To be talking about weddings after Minerva’s funeral?  Trust me; I learned this the hard way.  Took me a long time.  Life goes on.  Gotta live it while you can.”  It was with a pained look on his face that George clapped me on the shoulder and headed off to the library.

 

Eventually I made it into the kitchen where Melody was sitting with Ginny and Molly.  I walked over and stood behind her, putting my hand on her shoulder.  “Need anything?”

 

She put her hand up on my hand.  “I’m fine, thanks.”  Then she looked up at me.  “You still have that flask?”

 

I reached into Balthasar and handed it to her.  “You can thank your Uncle Reggie.”

 

She unscrewed the cap and said “To Professor McGonagall.”  After she took a swig she looked over at Molly.

 

Molly held out her hand.  “I don’t mind if I do.”

 

“Mum!”  Ginny was surprised.  “My Mum is drinking firewhiskey out of a flask?”

 

“Minerva and I used to keep our spirits up on occasion.”

 

“Mum, this is completely unfair.  You know I can’t drink.”

 

“What’s going on?”  Charlie Weasley rounded the corner.  “Mum?”

 

“What’s Mum doing now?”  Bill Weasley had now entered the kitchen and sat on the counter.  “Is that what I think it is?”

 

“I am of age and it’s quite all right.  To Minerva McGonagall.”  With that Molly took what I thought was a rather large pull off of the flask.  She blinked her eyes for a bit, looked at me and when I nodded she smiled and handed the flask to Charlie.

 

That seemed to have been the start, as everyone ended up in the large living room by the fireplace with firewhiskey and laughter.  I began hearing McGonagall stories from everyone, including how she had made Harry the youngest Seeker in ages as well as providing him with his first broom.  She had known it was technically against the rules, but she had loved Quidditch.  There were many stories, and after sitting there with my glass I wished I had known her longer than the short time I had been at Hogwarts.  The sun had set hours ago, but I don’t think anyone noticed.  Even with the size of the room seating space was crowded, and Melody sat in front of me on the floor, her back leaning against the chair.  I didn’t realize it at first, but I had a hand down by her head and was playing with her hair.

 

“Looks like there’s a Hufflepuff here that might have some news.”  George was sitting with Angelina on a couch and was looking at us.

 

I felt Melody move her head to the side.  I couldn’t see her face, but I could just imagine the expression.

 

“Yes, George.  You’re right.  I do have news.  You’re a total arse.  Oh wait, that’s not news, everybody knows that.”

 

Pretty much everybody laughed at that one, and I could have sworn that Molly stifled a laugh.  I could tell that Melody was irritated with George, so I decided to see how much I actually had on Mr. Weasley.

 

“You know, George, don’t you think people should be able to make announcements when they feel like it’s the right time?”  George ducked his head a bit, and I had been right: I owned George Weasley.  I figured I’d let him off the hook ever so slightly.  “But there’s no time like the present, I guess.  Yes, Melody and I are together.”

 

I felt her head lean against my leg slightly.  _Yes, we are together, and even though I just attended a funeral, it was a good feeling._

 

The retelling of Minerva stories continued, but I noticed that Neville was very quiet in the corner.  He’d commented on the stories, and told a few of his own, but for the most part he sat next to Hannah, quietly nursing a glass of firewhiskey.  He’d been that way for what had to be the better part of the last half hour or so, I thought, so I finished the last of my glass.

 

I leaned down to Melody and whispered in her ear “You ‘bout ready?  I think Neville is but he doesn’t want to be the first to leave.”

 

“Sure, Hank.”

 

I stood up.  “I think it’s time we headed out.  Ginny, Harry, thank you for your hospitality.”

 

“I think we’ll do the same.”  Neville and Hannah had taken advantage of my lead, and now the process of saying goodbye to everybody began, as well as the realization that Minerva McGonagall was buried earlier that day.  Neville and I followed the girls outside and then stood on the stoop for a few seconds before saying anything.

 

Neville sighed.  “Well, I’ll see you back at school, then.”

 

I shook Neville’s outstretched hand, and the two Hufflepuff women embraced.  Hannah turned to Neville, held his hand and they Apparated into the night, leaving Melody and I alone for the first time in hours.

 

“You don’t have to go back to Hogwarts tonight, Hank.  Um, I…”  She looked down at the ground for a while.  I waited, and eventually she brought her head back up.  “I don’t really want to be alone tonight,”

 

I understood from the tone in her voice what she wanted.  It was at times like this when we really needed other people.  I put my arms around her and held her close, trying to say that I understood exactly what she meant.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

I woke up the next morning buried in quilts, Melody on her side facing away from me but with her feet on my legs.  She must have been cold early that morning, as even the flannel sheets didn’t warm her up enough, she must have needed the body heat.  I hadn’t been planning on staying over, so I didn’t have my flannel pajama pants and I was a little cold as well; I guess the two extra quilts that went on the bed the night before didn’t really help as much as we thought they would.  Churchill was sleeping by my feet on the other side, making me the middle of the Melody-Churchill sandwich.  I really wanted to move but I didn’t want to wake either of them.

 

After putting on my glasses and taking a magazine from the nightstand, moving as easily as possible to avoid waking either of them, I figured I’d do some reading to pass the time until someone else woke up.  _It couldn’t take that long, right?_   _Wrong_.  I finished yet another copy of _Witch_ Weekly ( _seriously, what is it with that magazine?)_ and eventually gave up and pushed Churchill off of the bed.  He didn’t go quietly, and as I had feared Melody woke up.

 

“Churchill?”

 

“He’s fine, Mel.  Just didn’t like being moved.”

 

“Mmmm.  Yeah.  That’s him.”  She rolled over and put her head on my chest.  “I got cold last night.  Did you?”

 

“A little.  You put your cold feet on me in the middle of the night.”

 

“I did no such thing.”  Her tone was of sarcastic disbelief.  “I would have you know that…”

 

“Your feet are made of ice.”

 

“Well, you snore.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

“Tell me again why she’s coming along?”  George was walking faster than Melody and me, and it took us a bit to catch up, especially Mel with her length-challenged legs.  Diagon Alley was almost deserted, which I’m sure made George happy.

 

Melody rolled her eyes at him.  “Feminine opinion.  I’m not sure I trust you two to not mess this up.  If you bought her an awful ring you’d never hear the end of it.”  Melody looked at me with the expression of ‘you know I’m right, of course.’  There was no way I was going to argue with that.

 

George hadn’t been too excited to let Melody in on his plans, especially as that meant telling her when they planned to get married.  She hadn’t gone all shrieking girl on us, which kind of surprised me.  I thought all women went bonkers when someone was getting married.  I’d also put a ‘spanner in the works’ when I’d stayed over at Melody’s; George was thinking we’d just leave from Hogwarts, go get a ring, then head back to school with nobody the wiser.  _Right_.  I had a feeling the sight of George Weasley in a jewelry shop would get out eventually.  I wondered how everybody knew what was going on with the Weasleys and Potters, but I had forgotten that they were celebrities.  George owning Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes didn’t hurt, either.

 

The wind had picked up and I was glad to make it into Fiona’s Filigree.  We were met immediately by a very old witch with obviously darkened hair, as she had to be eighty years old if she was a day and her hair was jet black and pulled up on top of her head in a bun.  Her glasses hung off of her neck on a chain and every finger was adorned with a ring of some sort.

 

“Ah, a young couple.”  She looked at George.  “And friend.  What can I help you with today?  We have a very wide selection of wedding rings.”

 

Before anybody could say anything Melody thumbed at George.  “He’s looking for an engagement ring.  I’m just here for advice.”

 

She’d said it a bit abruptly, so the woman affected an air of annoyance.  She took George by the arm, “Well, congratulations, Mr. Weasley, isn’t it?  Please step this way.”

 

One small velvet box later, Melody, George and I began walking towards his shop.  Melody had finally approved of the ring, as George kept selecting ‘gaudy crap’ in Melody’s opinion.  She had talked him out of the biggest stone the shop had in stock, but had convinced him that he needed to be impressive.  After all, she said, Angelina was going to have to put up with George, so she would need some incentive to carry on.

 

Before we could head into his shop, George stopped abruptly.  “Oh, forgot a small detail.  Ok, next stop, Grimmauld Place.”

 

“Is your sister expecting you, George?”  Melody looked a bit worried.  “She might not want company.  She is pregnant, you know.  Sometimes…”

 

“Ginny always loves to see me!  Besides, she’s not training these days, she’s got to be bored out of her skull.  She’ll welcome us with open arms!”

 

I wasn’t going to say a word on that one.  I just wanted to watch the fireworks.

 

Ginny Potter met us at the door wearing a pair of Harry’s old pajama pants, a t-shirt with stains, blue fuzzy slippers and a bathrobe that was in desperate need of a good wash.  Her hair was a complete mess and she was holding a chicken leg.  After seeing George standing outside, she simply closed the door in his face.

 

“Ginny, come on, you’re my favorite sister!”

 

Ginny’s voice came from behind the door.  “I’m your only sister, George.  Nice try.”

 

“Well what about Hermione and Fleur?  You don’t count them?  They’ll be hurt.”

 

The door opened slowly.  Ginny stood with one hand on the side of the doorway.  “This had better be good.”

 

George pulled out the velvet box and showed Ginny the ring.

 

“Bloody hell.  Come in, come in.  Hi, Mel.  Hello, Hank.  Sorry about my appearance.  I was _obviously_ not expecting company.  I’ll put on tea and then I want details.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

“…and that’s where you and Mr. Potter come in, Ginny.”  George had explained the situation that Angelina wasn’t saying yes officially until she had a ring.

 

Ginny held the ring in her hand.  “Well done, Melody.”

 

“Hey!”  George took the ring back from her.

 

Ginny rolled her eyes.  “Ok, how exactly do Harry and I fit into this?”

 

“Well, since we’re not doing the big wedding thing, I thought we’d have a reception here.  New Year’s Eve.  Everyone will already be here, so I don’t have to worry about invitations.”  George seemed very pleased with himself and leaned back in his chair as if he’d just solved all of the world’s problems.

 

Ginny tapped her fingers on the tabletop.  “What about Charlie?”

 

George snapped his fingers and pointed at Ginny.  “Taken care of, sent him an owl and swore him to secrecy.  He’s delayed going back to Romania until afterwards.”

 

“So you’ve already told Charlie that we’re having the reception here _before_ you asked me?”  At this point I could see the resemblance between Ginny and Molly, and I think George could as well.

 

“Um, well, I had to do some creative thinking.”  George looked at me and winked, then gave Ginny the most blatantly pleading look I’d ever seen.  I think he even batted his eyes.

 

“Creative.  Right.”  Ginny’s face now resembled her own again, and I knew George had won.  “Fine.  I’ll tell Harry when he gets home.  Just remember, you owe me.  Big.  I intend on cashing in…how about you’ll be the first babysitter when she gets here.”  Then she thought about it a bit longer.  “But only if Angelina is there.”

 

Melody arched an eyebrow at that.  “She, huh?  Think it’s a girl?’

 

George shook his head.  “Nah, Weasleys have boys.”

 

Ginny rolled her eyes and laughed.  “Obviously.”

 

Melody and I left George and Ginny to discuss details and found ourselves back at the Leaky Cauldron soon thereafter.  Hannah wasn’t working, so we anonymously grabbed a booth towards the back.  After the coffee arrived, Melody couldn’t contain herself any longer.

 

“His mum’s going to kill him.”

 

I nodded and stirred my coffee.  “From what I hear, after what George and Fred did when they were younger I don’t think this will come close.”

 

“Oh, you don’t know Molly well enough, yet.  From what Ginny said Molly was a nervous wreck at Ginny and Harry’s wedding.  Everything had to be absolutely perfect at The Burrow.  Press was there from all over, it was a worldwide event.  _Boy Who Lived Gets Married_ headlines and all that.  From what I’ve heard she was a hundred times worse than when Bill and Fleur got married, and that must have been something.  Even though it won’t be a wedding at The Burrow, she won’t take this well.”

 

“I’m glad I’ve got a ringside seat, then.”  _Yes, this was going to be a New Year’s Eve to remember.  Then I remembered how quickly Melody had informed the lady at the jewelry shop that George was looking for a ring, not us._   My voice was fairly quiet when I asked.  “Um, Mel, back at the shop…um, not that I’m saying…it’s not, well, I, uh…”

 

She looked down at her cup, and I noticed she was slowly turning it on the saucer.  “Why I was so quick to tell her George was looking?”  She sighed and brought her face up level to mine.  “I guessed I’d have to tell you eventually.  I was married once before.”

 

Now that took me by surprise.  I decided to listen instead of saying anything, so I simply nodded and waited.

 

“It was right out of Hogwarts.  He worked for an architecture firm that was working on a project of Mum’s.  I met him at a reception for the new building; we had a few drinks.  Ok, a lot of drinks…”  She ran her hand through her hair and leaned back into the booth.  “We found one of those twenty-four hour marriage chapels and got married.  I really don’t remember it.  He went back to his place the next day and I didn’t say anything about it until the chapel sent Mum the pictures.  I didn’t have my place yet, so I was living with Mum.  She got the post the day after and, well, she went mental.  _Ruining my life, what was I thinking, I raised you better than that, think of your inheritance, what would your father say,_ all that rot.  Even when I got the divorce papers the next day she didn’t let up, and after that we didn’t talk for a month.  I stayed in my part of the house and she stayed in hers.  We’re officially divorced, but she still brings him up every now and then when she wants to fight dirty.”

 

I knew that must have been hard for her to tell me, but immediately I realized it didn’t matter.  Not at all.

 

“Hank?  Hank, say something.”

 

“Sorry?”

 

“I just tell you about one of the worst times in my life and you just sit there?”

 

“You were young, you were drunk, you made a mistake.  Everybody makes mistakes, Melody.”

 

“It doesn’t bother you that I’m divorced?”

 

“Not unless it bothers you.  To be honest, I know a lot of people who are divorced.  Doesn’t make them bad people, it just means things didn’t work out.  Trust me, I know about things not working out.  It doesn’t matter to me at all.”

 

I guess I must have said the right things, because she reached across the table and held my hand.  “I’m glad you understand, because I was going to ask you something.”

 

“Ok.”

 

“If we’re going to Grimmauld for New Year’s Eve, it doesn’t make much sense for you to go back and forth to Hogwarts.  Why don’t you stay at my place until you have to go back to school?”

 

I must have been grinning from ear to ear.  “Sure.  I’ll bring insulation against your ice cube toes.”

 

She lifted her hand from mine and smacked me on the arm.  “Well, I’ll have to perfect an earplug spell, then.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

The next day was spent bringing what I’d need over to Melody’s and some serious relaxation.  We ended up sitting by the fire for hours and discovered that I’m absolutely useless at Wizarding crossword puzzles.  Melody had _The Prophet_ folded over to the crossword and would ask me if I knew what a five letter word for some magical thing was, and of course I had no idea whatsoever.  Then again, I suck at Muggle crosswords as well, so she was fighting a losing battle on that one.

 

While Melody was busy I focused on some parchment that needed graded before classes started again.  Ok, I brought a large amount of parchment that needed graded; I had been putting it off until I absolutely had to grade them.  Fourth year parchments were always the last ones that I graded and since they had been so awful I’d given them a large assignment.  Being an idiot I’d forgotten that a large assignment for them means large amounts of grading for me.  I sat in the chair and graded papers while Melody worked on things for the Harpies, telling me that the season never really ends.

 

We’d planned to stop by the grocery to pick up ingredients for our dinner, but we couldn’t agree on anything.  After debating on what to buy for the fifth or sixth time we eventually gave up and went back to the Chinese restaurant.

 

We had settled into a table and our food had just arrived when Melody leaned in close, hinting that she needed to whisper.  “I think I see your shadow.”

 

“Where?”  I started to look and she grabbed my hand.

 

“Don’t!  You’ll give him away.  Over there in the corner, eating noodles.”

 

I looked to where she had nodded and saw a tall man trying to use chopsticks.  His cloak was over his head so I couldn’t be sure, but…I had a guess.  I stood up and Melody grabbed my arm.

 

“Hank!  What are you doing?

 

“Trust me.”  I walked over to the corner table and sat down next to the cloaked and hooded man.  “How you doing, Ron?”

 

“Brilliant.”

 

“Want to join us?”

 

“You’re a bastard, you know that, right?”

 

I looked over at Melody who had an expression that was a mixture of sheer embarrassment and fear playing across her face.  “Sure, but you better do something before Melody freaks out.”

 

With that Ron pulled his hood off and stood up.  Picking up his bowl of noodles he followed me back to our table and sat down nonchalantly, as if he’d planned it.

 

“I’m glad it’s you, Ron.”  Melody gave Ron a relieved look, and then gave me the ‘you’re going to get it later’ look.  Not the full Molly Weasley or Ginny Potter ‘I’m going to kill you’ look, but I knew she’d give me a hard time about it.

 

Mouth half full of noodles Ron nodded, “At least I get Chinese out of it.  Seamus had to hang out around the jewelry shop.  You two have news?’

 

I laughed at that.  George must have forgotten about my Auror shadows.  “No, just browsing.  I was looking at watches.  Wizarding watches are really cool compared to the Muggle ones.”  I wondered if he’d buy it, or if Seamus (that must have been my Auror shadow) had said anything about George being there as well.

 

Ron slurped up a noodle, causing Melody to wince slightly.  “Sorry, Melody.  Don’t tell Hermione, she’s always on me about that.”  He looked over at me, and I knew it was coming.  “So George helped you check out watches?  That’s a good one, he’s never worn one.  Says he’s his own boss so he doesn’t need to be on time.”

 

_Crap.  Think think think._

 

“I owled George about some Harpies stuff and he just met us there.  It’s close to his shop, you know.”  Melody smiled over at me.

 

_Thank you, Mel._

 

Ron looked at us both.  “Mmm-hmm.  Ok.  If you say so.”  His face grew serious then and he looked at Melody.  “I don’t want to embarrass you, but we know Hank’s staying at your place.  We’ve put up some temporary precautions, but we’ll need to do the full batch.”

 

 _Damn_.  Just when I’d gotten used to being comfortable, and looked at the Auror shadows as just a precaution, now the fear was coming back into my mind.  I thought about being in the hospital, how bad things could have gone if Neville and Hannah hadn’t been there…and now I’d involved Melody in that as well.

 

Melody looked over at me and then back at Ron.  “That’s fine.  Just let me know if I need to do anything else to help.”

 

Ron sat his chopsticks down and looked at both of us.  “Can you two just stay in one place for a while?  Especially when it’s my turn?”

 

I chuckled at that one.  “We’ll try.  How about we don’t leave Melody’s until the New Year’s Eve party?”

 

“Perfect.  You two stay there.  I’m off duty in a few hours anyway.”

 

After coming back to Melody’s house I looked out the window and saw Ron and another Auror doing complicated wand movements out by the front gate.  I guessed that must have been the full batch, sat down in the chair by the fire and was immediately graced with Churchill’s presence in my lap, requesting attention.

 

“He’s such an attention seeker.  You would think I neglect him.”  Melody scratched Churchill’s head and then sat down in the chair opposite of mine.

 

I looked at the fire in the fireplace for a while.  “Mel, I think having a whole group of people trying to kill me beats out your quickie marriage.”

 

“I guess so.  But I had Mum in full froth at me for weeks, so I know what it’s like to have someone want to kill you.  I think we’re even.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

“Charlie!  I thought you’d gone back to Romania!”

 

Bill Weasley greeted his brother in the living room at Grimmauld Place.  New Year’s Eve was in motion and the whole house was full of people, most of whom I’d never seen before.  Bill grabbed Charlie’s arm and led him through the room to the bar, where the two brothers began to mix drinks.  I’d had a couple of Bill’s ‘specials’ myself and had sworn to switch to something less powerful, like a gallon of one hundred year old firewhiskey.  This time I had on my formal robes, so I felt like a wizard.  I even had my wand in an inside pocket, though I wasn’t exactly sure of the reason.  Vanity or wishful thinking, I guess.  The more time I spent in the Wizarding world the more I felt at home, even though mundane things were amazing.  Watching Melody apply magical makeup was an education, to say the least.

 

I’d been introduced to several Aurors and Ministry officials, and the conversation usually went the same _.  I was enjoying Hogwarts, everything magical was hard to believe, my students were great and I thought Quidditch was amazing._   I’d spoken to several of the Harpies players that I’d met at the red carpet event and thoroughly enjoyed watching Melody blush when they teased her about me.  It was good to see that I wasn’t the only one capable of blushing.  Every now and then Harry or Ginny would stop by and ask if I knew when ‘things would happen’ and I would let them know that I didn’t have a clue; my part of the whole thing was over.  It was getting late and those ‘in the know’ were beginning to worry that something might have happened.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

 

“Come on in, yer George, right?”  Grabbing George’s hand she pulled him inside, leaving Angelina alone outside.

 

“Um, that’s, um…”  George was standing in the hallway holding Gwennog’s hand when Angelina walked in and grabbed his other hand.  “Bloody hell.”  Then George began to mumble.

 

Gwennog leaned in to George.  “What’s that, mate?  Can’t hear you.”

 

In a very low tone George said “Gwennog this is my wife Angelina.”

 

Gwennog took her hand from George and shook Angelina’s hand.  “Nice to meet you.  Wife, eh?”  Turning towards the crowd, Gwennog cupped her mouth and at the top of her Quidditch trained lungs yelled “HEY GINNY YOUR BROTHER GEORGE AND HIS WIFE ARE HERE.”

 

A small crash was heard from the vicinity of the living room.  Witnesses would later earn free drinks from telling the story of Molly Weasley’s faint and subsequent destruction of the bar.

 

One of the spare bedrooms had been commandeered as Weasley/Potter Family Headquarters.  Melody and I tried to avoid attending, claiming that we weren’t Weasleys or Potters, but George had insisted, saying we were ‘involved.’  I maneuvered Mel and me to a corner, and the scene didn’t look promising for George.  Bill and Fleur sat on the bed while Charlie leaned on the nearby dresser.  Harry and Ginny stood in front of the door, Ron and Hermione sat on a small couch and Percy stood next to them.  In the big armchair by the fire sat Molly with Arthur behind her, a hand on her shoulder.  George and Angelina were standing close to us.  Let the fireworks commence for George, I thought, appropriate for someone whose fireworks had interrupted one of my classes.

 

“George, you couldn’t tell me?  I had to find out from Gwennog Jones yelling it out at a party?”  Molly was mad, but there was something else beneath the anger.

 

“Mum, we didn’t want you to have to do another wedding.  I know what you had to go through for Gin ‘n Harry, and Bill ‘n Fleur.”

 

“And we were going to tell you first, Mrs. Weasley, if George hadn’t blurted it out after meeting Gwennog Jones.”

 

Angelina looked sympathetically towards her new mother-in-law, hoping that if anyone understood the ‘challenges’ of George, she would.”

 

“Oh, Angelina, I don’t doubt you for a second.”  She sat still for a bit, then couldn’t contain herself and went over and threw her arms around the newlyweds.  “I’m so happy for you both.  Angelina, welcome to the family, dear.  I’d always hoped…” and then Molly lost herself in happy tears.

 

The room then dissolved into a mass of congratulations, commiseration from the women on having to put up with George, and vigorous hand shaking.  The only hitch was when Molly found out that Ginny had known beforehand, and only Ginny’s joking protests that severe emotional disturbances might hurt the baby ceased the good-natured wrath of Molly.

 

Before everybody left to rejoin the party, George made his announcement.  “I just wanted to say that I’m the luckiest man in the world.  Not only did I meet Gwennog Jones…”  For this George received an elbow in the ribs from his wife “…but I’ve married the most wonderful woman in the world, not counting Mum.”  At the protests of his sister and sisters-in-law George held up a hand.  “Like I could or would marry any of you.  Anyway, we would we most happy to welcome any gifts…”

 

He never got to finish, as Charlie and Bill picked him up by his arms and carried him out the door.  The combination New Year’s Eve, Bachelor Party, Hen Party, Engagement Party and Wedding Reception had now officially commenced.

 

Luckily Melody and I escaped without being grilled by Molly on our involvement, but I was sure that would happen eventually.  Walking downstairs we were met by a photographer.

 

“ _Daily Prophet_ , smile please!”

 

I’d forgotten that the Potter’s party was not only a party but a Very Exclusive Party attended by the Ministry officials and professional Quidditch players, making it a press-worthy event.  At least I wasn’t cursing in that picture.  The rest of the time was spent with more small talk amongst the accumulated crowd until we found Hannah and Neville, and spent most of the evening talking to them recounting our involvement with George’s ring shopping and subsequent wedding reception plans.  When Kingsley Shacklebolt joined us, wearing a very loud and shiny New Year’s hat and blowing a noisemaker, I thought Neville was going to drop his drink.

 

“Just what we need, a little cheer in our lives.”  He raised his glass.  “To Minerva.”

 

We all raised our glasses.  “To Minerva.”

 

After another drink and some small talk Kingsley excused himself, “Have to make the rounds.  Ministry people think I’ve slighted them if I don’t talk to them all” and left the four of us alone in the crowd.

 

I tilted a firewhiskey bottle towards Neville.  “Another, Headmaster?”

 

“Temporary Headmaster.  But yes, I’ll have another.”

 

Hannah held out her glass as well.  “You’ll be official Headmaster soon, I know it.”  Neville looked away, and I wasn’t sure about his expression.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

After righting a Ministry official who was on the verge of losing his balance completely we made our way back into the crowd and found the party hats and noisemakers.  Hermione was in the process of putting one on Ron, who didn’t look too pleased.

 

“It’s New Year’s, Ron.  You don’t have to wear it for long.”  She then spotted us.  “Oh hello, I’d wondered when I’d see you again.  Can you believe George and Angelina?  I…”

 

Ron, Hannah, Melody and I pretty much said it at the same time.  “Had a feeling.”

 

Hermione had a shocked look on her face.  “Am I that predictable?”

 

Ron put his arm around her comfortingly.  “Yes, love, on that topic.  Now let’s go to the living room.  They’re getting ready to start the countdown on the wireless.”  Ron pointed her towards the living room and they left.

 

Before we could go more than a few feet we ran into Harry, who was talking to one of the Harpies.  He excused himself and put his arm around me.

 

“I’m glad you and Melody could come, Hank”.  Then, for my ears only he whispered “Seamus and Ron told me the whole thing.  You two weren’t very convincing.  Next time let George do the talking.”

 

The most famous wizard in the world, my ‘anonymous’ benefactor and the host of the party went back to his guests, laughing.

 

Listening to the wireless in the room (and outside the room, and alongside the room, and possibly adjacent to another room) the crowd began the countdown.  When 2005 made its entrance we all shouted and hugged and shook hands and then it was time for the best tradition, the New Year’s Kiss.  I leaned down and Melody lifted herself on her tiptoes, and we brought in the New Year in the right way.

 

“Happy New Year, Melody.”

 

“Happy New Year, Hank.  I think it’s going to be a good year.”

 

“Yes it is.  Yes it is.”


	12. The WLF, a Wand and a Plant

**Chapter 12:  The WLF, a Wand and a Plant**

 

 

Looking back, it was not one of my better ideas.  Classes had resumed, and after a few weeks things had returned to as normal as they can get in a school where the staircases move.  Neville was filling in for me for the day, as George had taken a week off for a honeymoon and somehow or other I was the temporarily Head of House for Gryffindor.  I swear if George Weasley was a Muggle he’d be selling crap on TV or would have a lucrative used car empire.  Being in charge of a group of students, years one through seven, was the least of my worries, though.  Arthur Weasley stood in front of a row of motor oil, reading the backs of the packages and trying to ask a teenager in a hooded sweatshirt and baggy jeans about viscosity.

 

I took the oil from Arthur, put it back on the shelf and looked towards the teenager.  “He really likes motor oil.  He’s a scientist.”

 

That seemed to explain enough and the kid moved away to look at various aftermarket, stick-on fake chrome accessories.  “Arthur, we need to get what we came for and go.  Just let me do the talking.”

 

“Right, Hank, let you…oh, what’s that?”  He had picked up an air freshener.  “Smells wonderful.”

 

“It’s to make your car smell good.  Put it in the basket.  Come on, we need to get out of here.”

 

I didn’t think my scientist story was going to explain everything, as several men were looking at Arthur as if he had just escaped from a mental institution.  I’d known it was going to be an adventure, but it was the least I could do, seeing how much Arthur wanted to get the Ford in ‘Muggle working order.’

 

Twenty minutes later we walked out with a fan belt, spark plugs, oil and a filter.  Oh, and fifteen air fresheners.  I knew that this wasn’t going to fix everything, but it was at least a starting point.  In my mind I knew that somehow the Anglia project would end up as a complete engine rebuild, but I didn’t want to break that to him.  Small steps.

 

“How long do you think it will take to put in the plugs?”  Arthur was holding a spark plug upside-down, tapping it with his finger on one end.”

 

“Well…”

 

Before I could explain a car on the side of the street was blown into the nearby house.  Red and green flashes of light shot above my head and to the left and right.  Arthur dropped the spark plug, grabbed his wand and shoved me behind him.  From my vantage point prone on the sidewalk I saw two dark robed wizards come over the hedges, wands shooting red light that crashed against some sort of shield that Arthur was projecting.  Another beam of light went towards the two attacking wizards, and I saw to my right a curly haired woman firing spells.  One of the attacking wizards went down, and Arthur switched from defense to offense, as he yelled “Stupefy!”  The second attacking wizard went down, and as fast as it had begun it was over.

 

Arthur looked down to me and pulled me up.  “Hank, are you all right?”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

 

The curly headed woman looked at us and then began surveying the area.  She waved her wand, causing a large silvery animal to appear and then vanish, then went over to the now unconscious wizards and did a spell to cover them in some sort of magical ropes.  I was sure the cops in Virginia would like to know that one.  After ensuring that the wizards were truly incapacitated she came over to us.

 

“Everything ok?”

 

“Yes, Miss Brown, we’re fine.”  Arthur looked towards the two on the ground.  “It’s that group, isn’t it?”

 

“Yeah.  They’re calling themselves the Wizard Liberation Front now.  Want to liberate us from living with Muggles.”  She looked over at me.  “Lavender Brown, Auror.  You’re kind of a trouble magnet, aren’t you?”

 

“I don’t mean to.”

 

“Well, that may be, but I don’t think the WLF cares what you intend.  Mr. Weasley, if you could take him back now, the specialist squads are on their way.  We’ve got some cleanup to do.  We’ll let you know if we have any questions.”

 

Arthur nodded his head.  “Yes, yes, I agree.  Ok, we’re off then, Hank.  Thank you again, Miss Brown.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

I was sitting in my room, drinking a cup of tea and trying to pull myself together when Harry and Ron arrived.  I knew this wasn’t a friendly ‘so how’s Hogwarts treating you’ chat.  Harry looked at me as if he had to tell me bad news.  I was right.

 

“Hank, since we’re seeing escalated attempts on your life the Ministry has asked that you not leave Hogwarts unless visibly accompanied by an Auror.  Anytime you do leave Hogwarts you’ll need to send an owl for permission first, that way we can make the appropriate security arrangements.”

 

 _Shit_.  “But what about…”

 

Harry shook his head.  “Before you say anything else you should also know that Melody was targeted today.  Ron intercepted a cursed item that was being sent to her.  She’s fine.  A bit shaken, but fine.”

 

I looked from Harry to Ron.

 

Ron nodded.  “She’s ok.  But we’re worried about her being by herself.  We asked her if she would move to her Mum’s place for safety, but she wouldn’t do it.  She’s staying with Hannah right now.”

 

 _Damn.  First I was attacked, and now they’re going after Melody?_   I stood up, angry.  “It’s enough that they’re coming after me.  I get that, I’m a Muggle.  I’m teaching at Hogwarts.  But why Melody?  She didn’t do anything to them.”

 

Harry shook his head.  “She’s dating you.  Your picture was in _The Prophet_ from New Year’s, remember?  If you’re number one on their list, then they’re going to try and hurt you any way possible.  And hurting Melody would hurt you, that’s why.”

 

It wasn’t Harry and Ron at my table, it was two Aurors.  I was being hunted and now they were hunting Melody.  I looked around the room, wishing I had something to throw because I couldn’t contain the anger.  The first thing I found was my wand, so I picked it up and began waving it around.

 

“If I was a real goddamn wizard I could protect her.  I can’t do anything.  I’m fucking useless.  If I ever meet those bastards, I’ll, _aaaaarrrggh_!”  I pointed my wand at the plant Neville gave me for Christmas.  It took a second to sink in, but the unmistakable fact was that the plant was on fire.  “Holy shit, guys, what happened?”

 

Ron walked over and hit the plant with a water spell.  “You just got really mad and set your plant on fire, that’s what happened.”  He looked over at Harry.  “I think we need to have a talk with some people at the Ministry, don’t you?”

 

“Yeah, Ron, I think we do.”  He got up and walked towards me.  “I know this isn’t easy, but you’ve got a lot of good people making sure you, and Melody, are ok.  Just hang in there for a while, we’re getting closer.”

 

I watched the two Aurors leave and sat at my desk, wondering what the hell it all meant.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Neville came to my room shortly after Harry and Ron left.  He was worried about things, I could tell from his face.

 

“Neville, I’m sorry that this had to happen while you’re in charge.  I know you stuck your neck out some to get me here.  I…”

 

“Hank, it’s not your fault.  You haven’t done anything wrong. The…” he glanced at the plant he gave me for Christmas.  “What happened?”

 

“I accidentally set it on fire with my wand.  I was mad.  I’m sorry.  I was trying to keep it alive, and…”

 

“You set it on fire with your wand?”  A strange look came over his face.  “I think we need to go talk to Dumbledore.”

 

A few minutes later we were in Neville’s office.  I noticed that a new portrait had been added; alongside Dumbledore was a portrait of Minerva McGonagall, very proper in her all black attire, a tabby cat in her lap.  I went to speak to her but she seemed asleep.  Dumbledore, though, was very much awake.

 

“Good to see you again, Hank.  What brings you to the Headmaster’s office tonight?”  Dumbledore looked as if he knew what we were going to say before we said it, but that wasn’t possible.  I didn’t have a portrait of him in my room.

 

“Hank set a plant on fire with his wand, Albus.  He was very angry when it happened.”  Neville looked as if he was finding the last pieces to a puzzle or had made a discovery.

 

“Ah yes.  Anger tends to bring parts of us out into the open, be it good or bad.  And what is the cause of your anger, Hank?”

 

I told him about the attack when I was with Arthur, the restriction to Hogwarts and finally the attempt at hurting Melody.  He listened intently, and after deliberating for a moment, nodded at Neville.

 

“Then it is as we thought.  Hank, when you learned about your ancestors, did you not wonder if any of their abilities would be inherited?”

 

I shook my head.  “Not really.  I figured that magical ability is probably a recessive gene or something like that, and it’d been watered down enough that I wouldn’t be able to do anything.”

 

“I believe you do have magic in you, Hank.  I believe we all have some magic in us; some have more than others and for those who have it, well, magic is simply expressed in different ways.  It is what groups like the WLF don’t want to hear, because if that is the case then the line between wizard and Muggle is very thin, too thin for their prejudices.  The legislation in the Ministry is coming closer to becoming reality, and after what you’ve told me today I believe you will be the example that will end it for good.  If you agree to it, you may be able to help every Muggle in the world.”

 

 _I was shocked.  I’m a complete Muggle.  I’m Professor Muggle, for God’s sake._   I still wasn’t convinced.  “If I’ve had magic inside of me for my entire life, how come I’ve never been able to do anything?”

 

He folded his hands and looked over his half-moon glasses as me, smiling.  “You mentioned having a, what was the phrase, ‘gut feeling about things’ when you met with Kingsley, correct?  You never had the full feeling of magic until you purchased your wand, correct?  The wand is a tool for the witch and wizard that allows focus and amplification of magic.  Your wand simply gave you greater focus and assistance.  Your anger, unfortunately for the plant, amplified your ability.  It is the combination of ability, tool and emotion that set the plant on fire.”  He looked over at Neville.  “Was it the blue one?  That was such a pretty plant.  Too bad.  Perhaps you can let him have one of the purple ones.  I do believe those are fire resistant.”

_Holy hell, I can do magic?  I have some magical abilities?_   I stood there and watched Neville and Dumbledore converse for a while, and the enormity of everything hit me.  For so long I had just become accustomed to how the Wizarding world worked, that it was unreal, like I’d walked into a movie.  The unusual had become commonplace.  Now it was all crashing down on me, I was standing in a room watching a man talk to a painting that was talking back.  I set a plant on fire with a little stick.  I’d seen people riding brooms and playing a game at a hundred miles and hour.  I’d held on to someone’s hand and showed up at a different place without doing a damn thing.  People had made things appear out of thin air.  It was always part of that dream-like world that I didn’t belong to; I belonged to the world of computers and television, of telephones and razors that didn’t shave your face automatically.  Of a world where tattoos didn’t move and house elves didn’t exist.  Now I was possibly part of _both_ worlds.

 

“Hank?”  I looked up to see Neville looking at me worriedly.  “Are you ok?”

 

“Just a lot to take in.  Holy crap, I mean…damn.”  I looked over to Dumbledore’s portrait, but he was no longer there.  “Where’d he go?  I’ve got some more questions.”

 

“Off to speak to some people about what happened tonight.  If you are willing to help, Hank, I think it’ll make a difference.”

 

“Sure, Neville.  Sure.  Be glad to help.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

My head was spinning as I walked back to my room.  I looked at the wand in my hand; this was the tool that set a plant on fire.  I was almost to my room when I saw a small figure in front of my door, a small figure with a blonde, pixie haircut.

 

“Miss Ryder?  What are you doing here?  Out of bed, what if Filch was here?”

 

She handed me a letter.  “I had to give it to you tonight, Professor Muggle.  Melody said you had to have it tonight, and I knocked and knocked but you weren’t there and I was going to slide it under the door but there’s some enchantment that won’t let me do that and…”

 

“I see, I see.  Its ok, Lavinia.  Now how are you going to get back to your room without getting in trouble?”  From the look in her eyes she hadn’t thought about that.  “Come in and I’ll write you a note.  If you have any problems tell Filch or the prefects to come see me and I’ll take care of it.”

 

We walked into my room and I went to the desk.  She was looking all around the room, trying to see what Professor Muggle’s room looked like.  After finally finding an ink pen that was useable I wrote her note and handed it to her.  “There, now…”  I knew that look.  “Yes, Lavinia?  What would you like to ask me?”

 

“Where’s all your Muggle stuff?”

 

“My Muggle stuff?”

 

“Yeah, we figured your room had to be full of it.  All I see is regular wizard stuff, and…”  She made a small noise that sounded like she just swallowed her tongue.

 

“Yes?”  She looked away for a second.  “Lavinia?”

 

“I like the pictures of you and Melody.”

 

I followed her eyes to the pictures of Melody and me at New Year’s from _The_ _Prophet._  “Thank you very much.  I’ll be sure to tell her you said so.  Now you’d better go.  It’s late.  Filch will be around this part of the castle soon.”

 

“Ok, bye.  Thanks for the note, Professor Muggle.”  She half-ran out of the room and closed the door a little too loudly.  I could hear her steps in an almost run for a while before the sound died away.

 

The letter.  I sat back down and opened it up.

 

_Dearest Hank,_

_Can’t write much now, just had to let you know I’m ok.  I’m glad you’re ok, too.  Lavender Brown was here with Ron and explained everything.  I was so worried when they were telling it, but its good Arthur and Lavender were there.  I wish you could be here tonight, but Churchill and I are with Hannah.  Hopefully I can go home soon and it will all be over._

_I’ll write more later.  Want to get this to Lavinia before it’s too late.  If she gets in trouble do take care of it._

_Thinking of you,_

_Melody_

 

-ooo-

 

 

I sat at my desk in the classroom and looked out the window at the clouds and birds passing by while my students worked on a topic that I’d assigned and already completely forgotten.  To be honest I just gave them something to write about so I wouldn’t have to actually teach that day.  Not the best educational move in the book, but I figured in my current situation it was completely understandable.  After all, I’m the main target of terrorists, I finally have a girlfriend who actually treats me like a human, said girlfriend and I were in isolation at different places and I’m going to be giving testimony in front of the Wizarding equivalent of Congress and the Supreme Court or something like that.  Oh, and it’ll be soon, so I should be ready, but there’s no indication exactly when that will be.  It could be in five minutes or in 2010 or something.  I’m stuck here until then unless I want to call for an Auror nanny.

 

“Professor Muggle?”

 

I knew the voice, and answered without raising my head “Yes, Miss Phillips?”

 

“I think I speak for the class when I say that due to the large amounts of detail needed to produce the parchment we’re working on it would help us gain perspective if we could work in groups.  We could gain valuable insight from differing opinions.”

 

Looking up I noticed the Fourth Year Ravenclaw had a very big, and fake, smile on her face.  _Why not?  After all, it had been a week since they made smoke come out of my ears for an hour._   My whole class was paying very close attention, a complete change of attitude from when class had started.

 

“Ok, here’s the deal.  I’m sure y’all don’t want to be here today.  As you can tell I’m not very into class today, either.  I’ll make you a deal; if you do the assignment in groups of five and get it finished by tomorrow I will dismiss class.  If anybody asks you what you’re doing tell them it’s a Muggle Studies assignment.”  Everyone immediately got out of their chairs and started towards the door.  “But if I don’t get the parchment you will regret it!”  Nobody listened, and they all started towards the door except for one person.

 

“Thank you, Professor Muggle.  I really thing we’ll gain important educational…”

 

“You can stop now, Poesy.  I know you don’t want to be in class, and to be honest I don’t right now, either.  If you tell anyone that I said that then I’ll have to let the Headmaster know about your involvement in the smoke incident.”  Her eyes went wide.  “I have my ways of knowing, Poesy.  Scoot.”

 

After she’d left I sat back at my desk and looked at the completely plain notebook, one of George’s better ideas, actually.  After he got back from his honeymoon and resumed Head of House duties for Gryffindor he thanked me with the notebook; it was enchanted to display any magic that occurred in my classroom.  It was also payback for having to deal with a fight between Sixth Year Gryffindors over professional Quidditch teams.  He’d enchanted the notebook so that it listed the perpetrator’s name alongside the spell or charm or whatever, so when the smoke had begun pouring out of my ears I didn’t say anything, I just wanted to make sure the notebook worked.  Sure enough, Poesy Phillips’ name had written itself on the page in a flowery script next to the name of a spell I couldn’t pronounce.  I wondered if letting Poesy know that I was on to her would be enough to stop her or, if I guessed correctly, it would inspire her.

 

The rest of the day went, well, it…oh who am I kidding, it was boring.  Students aren’t the only ones bored at school sometimes.  I’d fallen into a routine of classes, grading papers, visits with Neville and George and writing letters to Melody.  I used to roll my eyes at epistolary novels, the endless letters just grated on my nerves, but now I thought that they might be a bit more interesting after this experience.  January had rolled through gloomy cold into bitter early February, and the calendar was my enemy.  Seriously, when they handed out talking calendars I got the one with the bitter attitude and smarmy speech spell.  After I’d written Melody’s name on August 10th the damn thing kept telling me how many days were left until her birthday and for the last week it enjoyed counting the time left until Valentine’s Day.  I was at a loss to figure out a way to actually go shopping for a Valentine’s Day present without owling the Auror office and asking for a nanny.  It was only after reading Shakespeare late one night that I finally got my inspiration.  I had a secret weapon, and her name was Hermione Weasley.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Saturday the twelfth of February found me sitting in Hermione and Ron’s living room in Satterbourne.  I was having a cup of tea with Hermione while Ron was glued to the Cannons match on the wireless; it was one of the conditions of the shopping trip that we’d wait until the match was over.  Hermione joined me in front of the fireplace, glancing over at Ron who was seated on the floor directly in front of the wireless.

 

“I swear he’ll go deaf. He doesn’t need to be that close.”  She shook her head at Ron, and then turned back to me excitedly.  “I’m so glad you owled me, Hank.  After reading your letter I knew we could help you out.”

 

“I’m sure Ron’s very excited to go shopping.  I appreciate it, Hermione, I couldn’t figure out how to get this approved through the Auror’s office and be able to get some female help, but you and Ron are the perfect combination.”  I looked around the house; it was very tastefully decorated, not small but nowhere near as large as Grimmauld Place, full of pictures and books.  Lots and lots of books.  “I was also looking forward to picking your brain a bit.”

 

She sipped her tea and nodded.  “You’re wondering about the legislation.  I know you haven’t enjoyed being cooped in Hogwarts while Melody’s at Hannah’s.  To be honest, I think Hannah’s ready for it to all be over as well.  I don’t think her cat and Melody’s get along very well.”  Then imagining a slight she hurriedly added “And Melody’s anxious to see you too, I’m sure.”

 

“Don’t worry; I know she is, Hermione.  We write each other all the time.  I swear the school owls are starting to fake injuries when they see me coming.  The ones that don’t pretend to be asleep are nasty to me.”  _Especially that damned tawny one.  I didn’t like it, it didn’t like me and we were both ok with that._

 

Hermione leaned in and I caught her hint and followed suit.  “I’m not sure that Ron would like this, but I can tell you that it would be a good idea if you were ready in the next few days.  That’s all I can say, really.”  Leaning back she continued in a much louder, brighter voice.  “So what ideas do you have for Melody?”

 

I looked over at Ron but he wasn’t fazed at all, he was completely engrossed in the match.  “Nothing, really.  George suggested lingerie, but I don’t think that’s a very good idea.  I could always do clothes or jewelry, I guess.  I want to do something nice but not too forward, but I don’t want to buy something that has no feeling in it at all.  That’s why I owled you, you’re the one who always seems to know what to do in situations like this.”

 

 _Then I remembered last Valentine’s Day, when I’d made reservations at a place I couldn’t afford for Janine, and she blew me off to have drinks with a colleague.  Work stuff that couldn’t be helped, she said.  I sat in the damn restaurant for a while before leaving and heading home with a bottle of scotch and a pack of cigarettes._   I was finally brought back to reality by Hermione’s hand waving in front of my face.”

 

“When you get to thinking you really check out, you know that?”

 

“Yeah, I’ve been told that before.”

 

“BOLLOCKS!”  Ron stood up from the wireless.  “I could’ve sworn we actually had that one.  All right, let’s get this over with.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Sitting back in my room at Hogwarts I looked at the small box from Fiona’s Filigree.  After exhausting the other possibilities we ended up back there, and even though Hermione had heartily approved I still wasn’t one hundred percent sure.  I wanted to do more but was afraid it would come across the wrong way.  The silver charm bracelet was very pretty, and it was enchanted to do something but I didn’t catch exactly what that was.  I had added a snitch charm for her work with the Harpies, a quill charm for her writing of press releases, a cat charm for Churchill, a Hufflepuff crest charm and a very small heart charm.  I could have added more but I couldn’t think of any other ones that seemed appropriate; the added bonus was that I could hopefully add other charms as time went on, a fact that was not lost on Fiona (the witch with the glasses and dyed hair) who gave me her card.  Nothing like dealing directly with the owner.  Neville had helped out as well, arranging to have a bouquet of flowers sent to her from me.  He was going to be the deliveryman as he was going to see Hannah that night.  Everything was in place except for the fact that we’d still be under Ministry monitoring and had to be in our little prisons.

 

I fucking hate the WLF.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

 

Monday morning came soon enough, and walking to my classroom there was no doubt that it was Valentine’s Day, as I surprised Ruby Smythe-Warring and Carrick Frye ‘snogging,’ as my students call it.  I thought those two hated each other, but as they say there’s a thin line between love and hate.  I cleared my throat and waited.  Nothing.  I coughed and waited.  Nothing, more snogging.  Finally I went over and leaned against the suit of armor that they were hiding behind.  Eventually I saw Ruby look up, her eyes were wide and apparently she had lost the ability to speak.  Carrick looked over his shoulder and was ready to yell at one of his buddies when he realized it was me.

 

I had to stifle a laugh, and then addressed the two of them.  “Before either of you say anything, I am well aware that today is Valentine’s Day.  I would suggest you find a less obvious place.”

 

Carrick decided to be manly and stood in front of Ruby, as if to protect her from me.  “It’s my fault, Professor.  I thought…”

 

I held up my hand.  “It’s fine.  It’s Valentine’s Day.”  I leaned over and said quietly to the both of them “I think the second floor landing by the painting of the wheat field is particularly empty after classes.”  Ruby giggled and they both started to leave.  “Ruby, Carrick, a moment, please.”  I looked at them, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, antagonists for over half of the year in my classroom, now a couple.  “In the spirit of inter-house relations, I think five points to each of your houses would be appropriate.  Happy Valentine’s Day.”

 

The morning’s classes went well and I sat next to Cho at lunch, discussing the upcoming Quidditch game of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.  As Ravenclaw Head of House she was hopeful that the outcome of the match would help with the House Cup race, which was extremely close at the moment.  Ravenclaw had overcome their loss of points and even Slytherin was making a comeback, so at the moment it was a four house race.  The Great Hall was enveloped in Valentine’s decorations, and the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend was the chance for all of the romances kindled or rekindled to develop into fully formed plans.

 

The post had already been delivered at breakfast so the sight of an owl entering the Great Hall caused quite a disturbance; almost everyone had stopped to see who the owl was for, especially as it had a reddish-colored envelope in its claws.

 

Sebastian Volpone stood up at the Slytherin table.  “Look, someone’s got a howler!”

 

I wasn’t looking forward to that.  Poesy Phillips received a howler after her parents had been informed of her fireworks escapade in my class, and her father was less than pleased, to say the least.  The owl circled the Great Hall before landing in front of me.

 

“You’d better open it, trust me, Mum sent Fred ‘n me enough of those.”  George Weasley was leaning across the table.  “They only get worse if you wait.”

 

Cho looked at the owl, which had moved over my coffee cup very gingerly to avoid spilling its contents.  “I don’t think this is a howler, George.  The envelope isn’t the right color.”

 

I took the very dark pink, almost red envelope from the owl and surprisingly it didn’t flinch, kick or try and bite me like the other owls usually did.  “It’s not a howler.”  I recognized the handwriting.

 

_Dearest Hank,_

_I wish I could be with you today, but know that I’m thinking of you.  I absolutely love the bracelet.  How did you manage to pick it out while we’re under Aurorwatch?’  The moment I put it on I felt a very small tingle, what kind of enchantments are on it?  You’ll have to write back and let me know.  The flowers were gorgeous._

_The owl that delivered this letter is your Valentine’s gift.  Her name is Calliope and she’s a barn owl from right here in the U.K.  I may have convinced Harry that I needed to leave work early one day and do a little shopping of my own.  He’ll deny it, of course.  She is the gentlest owl I’ve ever known, and after your injuries from the school owls I thought you’d appreciate her._

_I know I’ll see you soon._

_Happy Valentine’s Day!_

_Your Melody._

 

“Well hello there, Calliope.”  I held a small piece of sausage out to the large, dusty brown owl, her black eyes startlingly dark against her flat, white face.  She slowly bent her head towards the sausage, and then eagerly took it and in a flash it was gone.

 

“That was a rubbish howler.”

 

I looked over to see Volpone sit down and most of the Great Hall dissolved into laughter.  I started to say something to George but he simply pointed towards the students.  Some had gone back to their lunches and conversations, but the majority was waiting for me to say something.

 

I put my arm down toward Calliope and she climbed on my arm, making me feel like a knight with a hawk from one of the old romantic chivalric tales.  “It wasn’t a howler; it was a note informing me that I now own an owl.  Calliope, named after one of the Muses of classical Muggle literature.  Twenty-five points to the first person who can tell me about the muse and her emblem.”  There were no immediate takers.  “Ok, then, I’ll take Calliope to the owlery now, and remember, twenty-five house points are available for anyone who can give me the requested information.”

 

“Nice teachable moment, Professor Boyd.”  Cho smiled at me.

 

“Hey, it kept them from asking who sent it, doesn’t it?”  I was feeling pretty pleased with myself until Cho pointed to the Hufflepuff table.  Lavinia Ryder and her girlfriends were all giggling and looking at me.  _Hufflepuffs_.


	13. Legislation and Trials

**Chapter 13:  Legislation and Trials**

 

I hadn’t expected it, even though they said it could happen at any time.  I sat in the chair in the center of the room looking at all of the witches and wizards gathered above me in rows.  I had imagined the meeting taking place in a small office with maybe two or three Ministry officials in attendance, but this was more like being the lead in a play who had suddenly forgotten all of his lines.  I kept thinking of the advice that Harry and Hermione had given me, things like ‘tell the truth’ and ‘don’t let them get you mad.’  Neville had reminded me to bring my wand; it was tucked inside my jacket.  I had hoped that Kingsley would be in attendance, but I didn’t see him among the rows and rows of unsmiling faces.

 

It was a great relief when I saw the imposing frame of the Minister of Magic make his way down the aisle and take his seat in the front of the assembly.  He held up his hand and the room became deathly silent.  I was sure that even the witch at the last row in the corner at the top could hear my heart beating.

 

“Professor, would you state your full name?”

 

“Henry Aaron MacDonald Boyd.”

 

“Do you swear to tell nothing but the truth?”

 

“I do.”

 

“Very well.”  Kingsley looked over at a very thin witch with a severe haircut.  “You may proceed, Mrs. Ingle.”

 

A thin witch stood up and looked over at me with a smile that I knew was not genuine.  “Mr. Boyd, you are currently engaged as the Muggle Studies instructor at Hogwarts, is that correct?”

 

“Yes ma’am.”

 

“You are obviously aware that Hogwarts is an institution for educating young witches and wizards.  Prior to your acceptance of the position at Hogwarts, were you aware that the Wizarding world existed?”

 

“No ma’am.”

 

“You are currently thirty-six years old, is that correct?”

 

“Yes ma’am.”

 

“For over three decades, and almost four, you have lived in the Muggle world.  Yes?”

 

“Yes ma’am.”

 

“Did you receive a letter from any magical educational institution upon your eleventh birthday, informing you of a position in their school?”

 

“No ma’am.”

 

She turned towards the crowd.  “Let it be established then that Mr. Boyd is, by our definition, a Muggle.”  She then turned back to me, again with a very condescending smile.  “Mr. Boyd, how would you characterize your discovery of the Wizarding world?”

 

“It was amazing.  I felt like my eyes had been opened to a completely new world.”  _And I don’t trust you or your fake kindness._

 

She laughed, and it came out as forced and practiced.  “And did it take a long time before you had become accustomed to living in the Wizarding world?”

 

I had to think about that one for a bit, and so I paused.  The room silently waited for my response, and I began to sweat even more.  “I wouldn’t say a long time, no.  I had help from my fellow instructors and other friends.”

 

“Ah yes, your friends.  Would you count Harry and Ginny Potter, Neville Longbottom, Ron and Hermione Weasley in the group of friends?”

 

“Yes, yes I would.”

 

“And what about two young witches?  Medea Joyce and Melody Bramble?”

 

“I would characterize Medea as an acquaintance.  Melody…”

 

She didn’t let me finish.  “Is your girlfriend.  You two are dating, is that correct?”

 

“Yes ma’am, that’s correct.”

 

“Is it also correct that on two separate occasions you have been attacked by a group now known as the Wizard Liberation Front?  One attack, I believe, put you in St. Mungo’s for several days.  Am I right?”

 

“Yes.  The WLF has attacked me twice, and I had to stay in the hospital once to recover.”

 

She stood for a moment silently, and then the awful smile returned.  “It is obvious that the WLF is targeting Mr. Boyd as he is a Muggle.  On both occasions wizards, and Aurors, had to come to his aid.  A defenseless Muggle raises serious security risks.  And this is just one Muggle!  If Muggles are allowed to freely move between their world and our world, think of how everyday events would change.  The Auror force would have to be increased several times over and at great expense to the Ministry.  Taxes would have to be raised on almost all purchases to defray the cost.”

 

_I knew this type of person; I’d seen them in action at school board meetings, political events, all over television.  She was the smiling face of racism, cloaked in large words and polite language. Even though I’d been warned against it, I could feel myself getting angry._

 

“How many like Mr. Boyd are walking the streets of the Wizarding World as we speak here today?  Those who lack the basic magical skills to protect themselves?  We have no idea.  The legislation ascertaining the magical abilities and levels of all will help ensure that we can keep the peace and security that so many fought and died for in the war against You Know Who.  We must ensure that our borders are secure.  An influx of Muggles, not to mention those already amongst us with minimal magical abilities, will only provoke attacks from groups such as the WLF, as with their lack of skills they are simply targets.  It is unfortunate that some witches and wizards feel the need to associate with Muggles, as they are only opening themselves up to danger.  I feel the choice is clear; we must enact the statues to determine magical ability levels to ensure the safety of everyone, and the planned communities for those of lesser abilities will enable the Ministry to control the situation accordingly.   As for poor Mr. Boyd, the exposure to the Wizarding world, despite his comments, must be overwhelming; to protect him we must ensure that the Obliviation procedure is completed upon the fulfillment of his contract at Hogwarts.  His example will provide proof to those who doubt that Muggles with awareness of the Wizarding World should be Obliviated, for the greater good of all witches and wizards.”

 

She sat down looking very pleased with herself.  I had noticed several heads nodding in agreement during her little velvet rant.  I hadn’t barged in over her borders, I’d been invited.  I tried to breathe deeply to calm myself.  This hadn’t gone well at all, and now I had to go back to Hogwarts and teach students who would be afraid to be in the same room as me because the WLF might come storming through the windows.

 

“Thank you, Mrs. Ingle.”  I looked back up to Kingsley; I couldn’t read anything from his face.  “I believe someone else wishes to question Professor Boyd.”

 

A tall man with thinning blonde, almost white hair stood up.  “Professor Boyd, I believe that Mrs. Ingle has established that, for our definition of the term, you are a Muggle.  Is it true that you purchased a wand from Ollivander’s?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“May we see your wand?”

 

I took out my wand and held it in my hand.  A slight murmur went through the assembly.

 

“What is the composition of your wand?”

 

“Black ironwood with a phoenix feather core, eleven inches long.”

 

“Can you wave your wand for us, please?”

 

I looked at Mrs. Ingle and remembered how she had made me feel.  She’d pretty much insulted me.  She’d said that Melody shouldn’t be seeing me because I’m a Muggle.  She’d said I was useless.  She was a complete bitch.  I took my wand and waved it through the air, probably a little more forcefully than I had intended.  A shower of red sparks came out of the end of my wand, this time as if the sparkler had just been pulled from the package on a bone-dry Fourth of July.

 

Kingsley eventually had to pull out his wand and point it at his throat.  His command of ‘Silence!’ echoed through the chamber.  When the tumult had died down, my questioner continued.

 

“I’d like to reiterate for the audience the previously established facts.  Professor Boyd has lived his entire life in the Muggle world.  He did not receive a letter to attend a magical educational institution when he turned eleven.  In the eyes of the assembly he is a Muggle, a person with no magical abilities whatsoever.  But we have seen evidence that by using a wand he is able to produce some magical effects.  The magic may be no more, or even less, than the people we call Squibs.”  He turned back to me.  “Professor Boyd, can you tell us the means of transport you have used since you have been in the Wizarding world?”

_Crap.  Was I going to have to out Arthur’s Anglia in court?_

 

Before I could answer, he clarified his question.  “Specifically, have you ever travelled via the Floo Network?”

 

“Yes, I have.”

 

 

“As part of your daily lessons at Hogwarts you award or remove student points, correct?”

 

I nodded. “Yes.”

 

“Are those points added to or subtracted from the House totals?”

 

“Yes, they are.”

 

“Is it true that in the presence of two Aurors that you used your wand to set fire to a plant?”

 

“I didn’t mean to…um, yes.  Yes I did.”

 

“And with assistance from a witch of your acquaintance you’ve traced your family tree back to Angus MacDonald, the man known as ‘Dent Head,’ is that correct?”

 

“Yes it is.”

 

The blond man was silent for a moment.  “Professor Boyd has proven that he has magical lineage, as well as some magical abilities.  His purchase of a wand, which chooses the wizard as it is said, and the aforementioned use of the Floo Network for transport could not be possible if he was purely a Muggle.  House points are subtracted or added to the totals without any physical changes or special arrangements.  He is a man who would have never known about his heritage or talents if he had not been exposed to the Wizarding world, yet we would have classified him as a Muggle and immediately cut ourselves off.  I think we all know the dangers of attempting to segregate according to ability or blood purity.  I believe we have learned more about ourselves after surviving the war…I believe that if we do not learn the lessons of the war we will be doomed to repeat them.”  He scanned the crowd.  “I believe my experiences allow me to consider myself something of an authority on that topic.  There will always be groups such as the WLF who choose to hate.  Today they hate Muggles, tomorrow it might be Squibs.  Who knows where it will end?  But if we give in to hate, if we give into fear, then we have given up.  If the legislation passes to classify magical abilities, and obliviate Muggles who have knowledge of the Wizarding World, who will draw the line?  Who will say where Acceptable Magic Levels begin and Non-Acceptable Magic Levels end?  Will Muggle parents who have a witch or wizard for a child never be allowed to see their child again?  Colleagues, witches and wizards, what path will we head down?  I say the legislation must never be implemented.  For all of our sakes.”

 

I had no idea who that man was, but I liked him.  If I ever needed a lawyer, I knew who I was going to call.

 

The room was oddly quiet when Kingsley stood up.  “We will now recess and debate.  Professor Boyd, thank you for your cooperation today.  You are dismissed.”

 

The assembled witches and wizards began to file out of the chamber, and I was met by Percy Weasley.  “Very well done, Hank.  Did you really set a plant on fire?”

 

“Yeah, it was a Christmas present from Neville.  I still feel bad about it.”

 

“Don’t worry; I’m sure he understands.  If you’ll follow me there are some people waiting to see you.”

 

I followed Percy down a corridor where I was met with the smiling faces of Mr. and Mrs. Ron Weasley, Mr. and Mrs. Harry Potter, Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Weasley and…there she was, standing by Ginny; my girlfriend.  After many congratulatory handshakes and hugs, I was finally with Melody.  Before I could say anything she threw her arms around me and gave me a kiss.  That’s what I’d been missing.  She smelled wonderful, and I saw the charm bracelet on her wrist.

 

After coming off of her tiptoes Melody looked over to Hermione, “So what happens now?”

 

“Well, they’ll debate.  Hank’s part is over.  We probably won’t hear anything for a day or two.”  She looked over at Harry and Ron who simply shrugged.

 

“That’s your department, Hermione.”  Ron looked at his wife with an expression of shock.  “We just catch the bad guys.”

 

When Ron mentioned bad guys I thought of Mrs. Ingle, then immediately to the wizard that had spoke in my defense.

 

“Hey, who was the guy who spoke for me, the really blonde wizard?”

 

Ron rolled his eyes.  “Nice act, that was.”

 

Ginny elbowed Ron, causing him to exhale loudly.  “He’s changed, Ron.  You know that.”

 

“Yeah, but he’s still a Slytherin.”

 

I looked around the faces, trying to figure things out.  Hermione gave me the answer, as always.  “Hank, that’s Draco Malfoy.  You remember reading about him, don’t you?”

 

“No way.”  _Whoa.  This was Harry’s antagonist all throughout Hogwarts, the person who was supposed to kill Dumbledore, the son of a Death Eater?  A former Death Eater himself, who had been on Voldemort’s side for a while?  I know people really can change, but it didn’t look like Ron believed it, even now._

 

Eventually the crowd had whittled down to only Melody and me.  We sat on a bench outside the big room where I’d given my testimony, trying to catch up on lost time, not noticing that Harry had joined us until he tapped me on the shoulder.

 

“We’re lifting the restrictions for you two, contingency basis only.  If we think you’re in danger, we’ll put them back on.  It would still be a good idea to let Ron or I know if you’re going out.  Hank, when word gets out that you can use a wand, you might have people try and see if you can really use it.  I don’t know if you have enough magical abilities, but it would be a good idea to try and learn some very basic defensive spells.”

 

 _I was going to actually learn magic?  Professor Muggle, student.  I’m sure my classes would enjoy that._   “Thanks, Harry.  I appreciate all the help.  If we go anyplace, we’ll let y’all know.”

 

Melody looked over at me.  “Well, right now I can tell you one place we’re going.  Come on, Hank.  We’re going to my house.”

 

Harry grinned at us, completely oblivious to his very pregnant wife standing behind him in the doorway.  She walked over (ok, at this point she was sort of waddling, but I wasn’t going to tell her that) and grabbed his ear.

 

“We are leaving now, Harry.  My feet hurt, my back hurts and I need curry.  You can bother them later, Mr. Auror.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Sunday morning is one of the best things in the world.  For me it usually meant sleeping very late, coffee or tea and an entire day to read the paper, books or whatever else.  I’d fix something to eat whenever I was hungry, regardless of the time, but generally Sunday meant just time to wind down.  Now I was winding down with Melody, what more could I ask for?  All in all I was a pretty happy man.  I wasn’t confined to Hogwarts anymore, Melody was back at her house, I’d proven I could use a tiny bit of magic, classes were going great.  Most of all, I had managed to convince Neville that I wasn’t really needed at Hogwarts on that particular weekend.  I had a feeling he wouldn’t mind and luckily I was right.  The only problem was that I didn’t sleep in; I was up at the crack of dawn.  Trust me; waking up at six on a Sunday morning unnecessarily is not something that goes over well in my book.

 

I’d tried lighting the stove with my wand but nothing worked so I settled for orange juice.  Hell, I’d woken up before the paper arrived, never a good sign.  Luckily this time I was prepared, though, so no more of that damned _Witch Weekly_.  I mean, come on, the best smile award?  Are this year’s robes too daring?  Blech.  I grabbed my orange juice and pulled out a beaten up copy of a Faulkner novel and settled into the chair by the barely smoldering fire.  I tried to light that too, but of course nothing happened.  I guessed saying ‘Flame On!’ and waving my wand at the newly added logs wasn’t going to work, so I had resigned myself to a quiet morning with Churchill, reading about the American south with only the open curtains for light.

 

I was about twenty pages in or so when I heard a knock at the door.  Who the hell would be knocking on Melody’s door this early?  My first thought went to the WLF, but they wouldn’t just knock on the damn door. _Good morning, terribly sorry to intrude, but may we come in and kill you?_   It had to be Ginny or some other friend of Melody’s.  Maybe it was someone from the Harpies with an urgent press release need.  The knock came again, this time a bit more insistent.  I grabbed my wand, mostly for show, and answered the door.

 

“Oh.  Good morning, Mr. Boyd.  Is my daughter at home?

 

 _Fuck_.

 

So there I sat at the kitchen table waiting for tea very awkwardly with Lane Bramble while her daughter slept soundly in the next room.  Lane had glanced at my wand but hadn’t said anything.  She used her wand to light the lamps and make tea while I sat at the table, realizing that I was wearing plaid pajama pants and an old t-shirt from a barbeque place in South Carolina, I hadn’t shaved since Friday morning and my hair was a mess.  She, on the other hand, looked as if she’d just left a reception at the White House or 10 Downing Street.  I’d almost started a conversation a couple of times while she was busy moving around the kitchen, but couldn’t figure out exactly what to say.  _“Hi, remember me?  I’m the Muggle that’s your daughter’s boyfriend.  You can probably tell I didn’t stay at Hogwarts last night.  How have you been lately?”_   I’m sure that would have gone over well.

 

Finally the kettle sang it’s little song and tea was poured.  “How do you take it, Mr. Boyd?”

 

“White, two sugars, please.”

 

We sat and prepared our tea.  I took a long time making sure that my sugar was sufficiently dissolved.  I guess a little too long.

 

“I believe you’ve probably stirred it enough by now.”  I lifted my head to find her looking at me over the top of her teacup.  “You have a wand.  My sources were correct.”

 

“Your sources?”

 

“Emmaline Spleurgon and I had lunch the other day, and she mentioned it.  Her husband Thomas is on the Wizangamot.  I understand you can actually make sparks with your wand.”

 

“Yeah, it’s true.  I can’t do much more than that, though.”  I wondered what else Emmaline had to say, but I couldn’t read anything from Lane’s face.  “Nobody really knows except for a few friends and the Wizarding folks at the meeting.”

 

“That’s why I stopped over this morning.  After _The Prophet_ is delivered your little secret will be out.”

 

 _What?  I’m in the damn paper again?_   “How do you know?

 

“I’m on the board of the Gardening Club with one of the editors.  At our orchid event last night she gave me some advance warning.  I believe that you, as well as my daughter, will be the news this morning.”

 

She paused and took a sip of tea.  I waited because frankly I didn’t know what the hell to say.

 

“I wanted to ask Gwennie some questions” she looked at my t-shirt and pajama pants, and then directly at me “but it appears that you have already answered several.”

 

Before I could say anything Melody groggily walked into the kitchen wearing only a t-shirt and rubbed her eyes.  “Why are you up at this hour, Hank?  Come back to…” she stopped rubbing her eyes and realized exactly who was in her kitchen “Merlin’s pants!  Mum?”

 

“Good morning, Gwennie.  Why don’t you join us for tea?”  Lane’s face was perfectly calm but there was an underlying hint of steel in her words.

 

Melody sat down at the table rather quickly.  “Ok.”  She looked over at her Mom with a funny look on her face.  “Why do you look like you’re having your portrait painted, Mum?”

 

“I have a charity breakfast function this morning and another appointment in the early afternoon.  No time to change, but I’m not here to give you my schedule.  As I was telling Mr. Boyd…”

 

“Hank, Mum.  His name is Hank.”

 

_Something was going on here but I had no clue what it was.  This wasn’t the first time since arriving in Britain I felt like I’d walked in on the middle of a movie._

 

Lane acted as it was only a minor correction.  “As I was telling…Hank, he will be the main focus of today’s _Prophet_.  You will also be a part of that focus, Gwennie.  I dropped by to see if what I had heard was true, and based on the fact that” she looked at me and nodded her head “Hank answered the door at this hour has led me to believe the information is true.”

 

“What, you wanted to know if Hank is my boyfriend?  You had to come over at this bloody early…”

 

“Gwennie, language!”

 

“At this bloody hour to ask me that?”

 

_Uh-oh.  I’d heard this tone before.  From the stories that Ginny told me, this had to be the tone that she used to tell reporters to shut up and made photographers nervous.  I hoped she wasn’t picking up steam._

 

“You could have owled me, Mum.  But no, you didn’t really care until it was going to be in _The_ _Prophet_ , so now all of your friends will know.  You’re worried about yourself, aren’t you?”

 

_Shit.  She was picking up steam._

 

“And you didn’t need to come over here this early just to ask me that.  You just want to know if I’m shagging Hank.”

 

“Melodia Gwendolyn Bramble!”  Lane’s face had lost it’s composure at this point and her eyes were wide.  A vein bulged on her temple.

 

 _Holy hell, there was no turning back now; Melody had a full head of steam_.  I looked up at her “Melodia?”

 

She snapped over to me.  “Shut it.”  Then she swiveled her head to her mother.  “Yes, yes I am shagging Hank.  You’re worried about how your precious society friends will react.  You wanted to tell them it wasn’t true, that your daughter wasn’t with a Muggle.  Well it is true.  _Very_ true.  And for your information I also have a Hufflepuff tattoo on my hip.  Anything else you want to know, Mum?

 

Lane got up from the table and gathered her purse to her side very quickly, the knuckles on her hands white from holding it so tightly.  “That’s quite enough.  I think it best that I leave.”

 

“Suit yourself, Mum.  I could tell you lots more.  Care for another cup of tea?”

 

Lane walked over to the door and her hand rested on the doorknob.  “I don’t think that would be a good idea.  Goodbye, Gwennie.”

 

She opened the door and was instantly engulfed in the flash from multiple cameras.  Lane put her purse over her face and pushed her way through the gauntlet of press and eventually apparated away, leaving Melody standing in the open door, still only wearing a t-shirt.

 

Melody glared at the photographers.  “Sod off.”  She slammed the door shut and put her back against it, sliding down to sit on the floor.  “Well that’s a brilliant way to start the day.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Later I found myself drinking another cup of tea, this time wearing proper pants, in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place.  Melody had owled Ginny, hoping that she wouldn’t wake her up.  We received Ginny’s owl almost immediately, and after showering and becoming more presentable we ended up leaving via Floo.  Ginny sat in an old bathrobe and what must have been Harry’s old pajamas.

 

She noticed my glance at her choice of attire.  “Magically expanded.  Have to do that with everything now.”

 

“I’m sorry we’re here so early, Ginny.”  Melody’s tone was very apologetic.  “I’m sure you need the sleep.”

 

“To be honest I’m not sleeping very much lately.  It’s so uncomfortable; I’ve been awake for hours.  She’s always kicking right when I am about to fall asleep.”

 

 _Ginny did look tired.  And also very big, but I knew better than to say anything about that_.  I nodded.  “My sister had the same problem.  She said she was looking forward to when the baby came so she could get a few hours of sleep in a row.”

 

“And did it work?”  Ginny looked at me hopefully.

 

“Well, not with the first one.  It did with the second.”

 

“At this point the Boy Who Lived is never touching me again.  He’ll be the Boy Who Was Permanently Hexed in the Sensitive Bits.”  Ginny laughed.  “I keep telling myself it’s just for a little bit longer.”

 

 _I tried to remember, but hey, I’m a guy, we don’t always remember stuff._   “I know you’ve told me a million times, Ginny, but when is your due date.”

 

“Ugh.”  She sat her teacup down.  “Sorry, Hank.  Its decaffeinated herbal tea, supposed to be good for the baby, but it tastes awful.  It’s April 1st, George and Fred’s birthday.  George said that if she’s born on the 1st that he gets to pick out the name.  Like I would ever let that happen.”

 

 

Ginny leaned over to Melody.  “Would you mind getting that?  Getting up and down…”

 

“Not at all, Ginny.”  I looked over at Melody and we met each other’s eyes.”

 

Then the light went on for Ginny.  “OH!  The paper!  Hurry!”

 

Melody took _The_ _Prophet_ from the owl and spread it out on the table.  Lane was right.  Front page.

 

**THE MUGGLE WHO WASN’T!**

**Exclusive details on Professor Muggle’s Magical Abilities**

 

Underneath the headline was a large picture of me from my interview with _The_ _Prophet_ before the Hogwarts term had begun.  I looked at the witches.  “That doesn’t seem so bad.”

 

Ginny didn’t say anything, she just pointed to the headline on the bottom section.

 

**PROFESSOR MUGGLE LOVE TRIANGLE**

**Witches War for Muggle Love!**

 

This time there were two pictures.  One was of Melody and me from New Year’s and the other…damn.  It was the picture from when I’d asked out Medea taken inside of Madam Malkin’s.

 

Before I could say anything Melody grabbed the paper and began skimming, then violently turned to the next page.

 

“Hey, not fair.”  Ginny looked over at Melody.  “What does it say?”

 

Melody made an incredulous snort.  “It doesn’t say for certain, it just implies that when Hank was attacked I set it up because he was on a date with Medea.”

 

Ginny couldn’t believe it; she just shook her head in shock.  “You wouldn’t, those, I, oooohh…”

 

Melody threw the paper onto the table.  “I will curse those bastards!”

 

“Please don’t curse anyone.  I don’t want to do the paperwork.”  We looked and saw Harry standing in the doorway, cleaning his glasses on his robe.  “It’s nice to see you again, but why are you yelling in my kitchen on a Sunday morning?”  He simply nodded in my direction, and I returned the favor.

 

Ginny held up _The_ _Prophet_.  “This is why.”

 

Harry took the paper from his wife and sat down at the table.  Nobody said anything while he read the headlines, and after turning to page two he raised his head and looked at us.  “Makes things interesting, to say the least.”

 

“Interesting?”  Ginny was looking at her husband as if he’d just said that winning the lottery would be fine if it wasn’t too much of a bother.  “Harry, they’re saying that Mel is working with the WLF!”

 

“Calm down, Ginny.  We know that’s not true, that’ll be easy to clear up.  Medea’s interview might not be so easy, though.”

 

Melody walked over from leaning on the kitchen counter to Harry.  “Interview?”

 

“Um, yeah.  Medea said that she didn’t think it was the WLF but she wasn’t sure about you, since you’re one of those competitive, high-strung Quidditch types.”

 

“I’m a bloody press secretary!  I work in the office!  I’m absolute rubbish on a broom!”  Melody sat back down in her chair, fuming.

 

“I’ve never liked that woman, Mel.  Now I have an official reason to not like her.”  Ginny shook her head and took the paper out of Harry’s hands, wadded it up and threw it in the vicinity of the rubbish bin.  “I’d set it on fire if I had my wand.”

 

“Mum said I was in the paper, but she didn’t tell me it was going to be like this.”  Melody’s head slowly sunk until her forehead was on the table.

 

“I know you said you had a fight with your mum this morning, but you didn’t give me the details.”  Ginny looked over at Harry and me.  “Why don’t you boys go out and get me some kippers.  Donuts, too.”  Then Ginny turned back to Melody “Ok, start from the beginning.  Spill.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

I sat in my classroom dreading the arrival of the students.  I’d eaten breakfast in my room that morning to avoid all of the questions that I knew were coming.  There was no way to avoid it, but I was trying to postpone the inevitable for as long as possible.  At least my first class for the day was the first years; they were one of my easiest classes to manage.  Ultimately they began filing in, oddly quiet.  When they had all taken their seats I realized that none of the normal chatter had happened; usually I had to settle them down and then the lesson went off without a hitch.  Now they were all sitting perfectly still.

 

I decided to take matters into my own hands.  “I am assuming that you have all read Sunday’s _Daily Prophet_.”  The silent faces continued.  “No questions?”

 

“We’re not supposed to say anything after what happened this morning.”  Daphne Drapier, Gryffindor, had broken the silence.

 

“And what happened this morning?”

 

  1. “One of the fifth years started saying bad things about you and I told him that you and Melody weren’t like that and it was all lies and he wouldn’t listen and I hit him with a jinx.”



 

 _Hufflepuff loyalty strikes again._   “I don’t need to tell you that wasn’t a good idea, Miss Ryder.  I do appreciate your coming to my defense, though.”  I tried to say it as reassuringly as possible.

 

One of the Slytherin boys whose name I could never remember held up his hand.  At least he’d learned to raise his hand, even if I couldn’t recall his name to save my life.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Headmaster Longbottom said that we weren’t to discuss it any further ‘n that it was just _The_ _Prophet_ trying to sell papers.”  He paused, wondering if he could get away with it.  “But is it true, Professor Muggle, that you can do stuff with your wand?”

 

Every eye was riveted to me at that point.  I nodded.  “But nothing close to what you can do.  This is your first year at Hogwarts and you can do things that even if I practiced for the rest of my life I wouldn’t be able to do.  I have a very, very small amount of Wizarding blood from a very distant wizard ancestor.  I’ve lived my entire life in the Muggle world until I began teaching at Hogwarts.  I’m learning what it’s like to live here, just as you will need to know how to live in the Muggle world at times.  I think that’s what we should be focusing on, so if you will turn to page 204 in your textbooks…”

 

The rest of class went well, and before I knew it time had run out.  “Remember, your assignment is due Wednesday.  Miss Ryder, can I speak with you for a moment?”

 

As the other students made their way out she walked slowly to my desk.  This was not a good day for her, I could tell.  Lavinia was very studious, always asking for extra credit.  From the house stereotypes she almost fit the bill to be in Ravenclaw.  That she’d caused her house to lose points was obviously weighing heavily on her conscious.

 

“Ryder, I know Melody would be very grateful that you stood up for her.  I know your heart was in the right place, but sometimes you have to let things go in one ear and out the other.  Do you understand?”

 

She nodded quickly.

 

“This happened at breakfast, so I am assuming you were sitting at the Hufflepuff table.  Was the boy you jinxed in your own house?”

 

This time the nod came slowly.

 

“Loyalty is a very good quality, but so is thinking things through.  I know it’s hard to think straight when you’re angry; I don’t do a very good job of that myself, sometimes.”  Then a thought came to me, something I had remembered reading.  “Miss Ryder, did Headmaster Longbottom give you detention?

 

“Yes.  He said that I have to do my detention with him.”

 

“I see.  Detention with the Headmaster is not something you want to make a habit of, but since you’ll have a chance to talk with him, why don’t you ask him about the year he helped win the House Cup for Gryffindor?  I think you’ll find the story very educational.”

 

She looked at me, worried.

 

“Don’t worry, Lavinia.  I’ll make sure he knows that I suggested you ask him.  It’ll be ok.  Now hurry or you’ll be late for your next class.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

I was sitting in my room grading papers when Calliope came in with a letter from Melody.  I’d written her about Lavinia’s incident and knew that I’d receive a reply quickly.  I was also wondering how her Monday had been.

 

_Dearest Hank,_

_I don’t care if you get in trouble with Neville you need to do something nice for Lavinia.  She was very brave to stand up to a fifth year boy.  Obviously the git forgot about the part where Hufflepuffs are tolerant.  She’s only a little first year, what was he doing picking on her like that?_

_From now until Merlin knows when Calliope will be delivering my letters to Grimmauld Place.  I tried to go home but the press was still camped outside.  Somehow the Floo Network is broken at my house, so I know there will be wonderful pictures of me in the papers soon.  Ginny and Harry are letting me stay with them until it all blows over and it looks like I’ll be here for quite a while.  I also got an owl from Harpies management saying that I am on temporary leave as I can’t deal with the press ‘when you and your Muggle are the big story.’  I think Ginny’s grateful of the company since Harry’s been working very long hours lately.  Hermione stopped by after work and wants Ginny to bat-bogey hex Medea.  We all agreed it would be for the best, so now we just need to figure out how to do it and not get caught._

_I’m glad your classes went well.  Keep concentrating on your work.  By the way, I felt my charm bracelet tingle this morning.  I keep forgetting to ask you about that._

_Write soon.  I miss you._

_Love,_

_Melody._


	14. A Large Amount of Weasleys and Three Potters

**Chapter 14:  A Large Amount of Weasleys and Three Potters**

 

It was the last day of classes before Easter Break and the natives were very restless.  I didn’t want to let them know but so was I; I’d be joining Melody at Grimmauld Place for vacation, and it would be the first time I’d see her since we’d started ending out letters with ‘love’ instead of ‘thinking of you’ or other phrases like that.  I didn’t want to be overly obvious about things but I also didn’t want to be aloof.  Middle ground is hard to find sometimes, as evidenced by my fourth years.  Class was great or horrible, rarely anything in-between.  Yes, they were doing well with the material, but keeping them on task and keeping my temper were my two biggest challenges.  This was the class that reminded me why I usually didn’t teach anyone without a high school diploma.

 

They must have sensed my desire to be on break as much as theirs because from the moment they took their seats things did not go well.  I started the lecture and after stopping to take a drink of my tea I realized it had been turned to sand.  When I went to pick up my textbook from the desk it hopped away from me until I had to run and jump on top of it to stop it from escaping out of the open classroom door, another careless mistake of mine.  They would giggle behind my back when I walked through the classroom during the rest of my lecture, but I couldn’t figure out why.  At least I would have evidence, as George’s book would tell me later.  Only after threatening them on becoming attendees at a Filch Family Easter did they finally settle in, and of course that was when there was only ten minutes left of class.  It was at that time I gave up, their plan from the start, I’m sure.  I bade them all a Happy Easter and sat down at my desk, opening the notebook, expecting to see Poesy Phillips’ name twice.  Instead of twice, though, it was there three times.  I couldn’t remember the third time, it was the tea and the book and…right.  I took off my robe and looked at the back.  ‘My Wand is Useless’ was written in glowing yellow letters on the back of my robe.  I’d been pranked with the Wizarding equivalent of the ‘Kick Me’ sign.

 

George Weasley walked into my classroom once vacation had officially started, as I was going to apparate to Grimmauld with him instead of Floo.  “So, how’s tricks?”

 

I pulled out the notebook and showed him.  “Ask Poesy.”

 

He ran his finger down the list.  “Nice, nice, well done, could’ve been better there, that’s a repeat, good…” and then he lost himself to an explosive bout of laughter.  “My wand is useless?  Brilliant!”

 

“Yeah, brilliant for them, not so much for me.  I threatened them with detention with Filch over Easter.”

 

“You wouldn’t?  Actually, you can’t, can you?”

 

“I don’t think so, but they don’t need to know that.”  I took the book back from him and put it in the desk drawer.  “So what are we going to do about Poesy?”

 

“We?  _We_ aren’t doing anything.  It’s your class.”

 

“But I thought…”

 

“When term is over, and I’m no longer a Professor, I think I’ll offer her a summer job.  Maybe call it an internship.”

 

“Still just a one year thing, eh, George?”

 

“I don’t know who is bothered more by the rules, them or me.”

 

“Haven’t given one detention this year, have you?”

 

“Of course not.  Trust me, those never work.  Now hurry up and let’s be off, I don’t want to miss supper.  Mum’s coming over to cook.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

After we arrived at Grimmauld Place it was immediately apparent that Molly had not come over to cook; Molly had come over to be available immediately whenever her only daughter’s baby decided to make its entrance.  Arthur met us at the door and warned us that we should go easy with Ginny, as Molly was hovering over her just a ‘wee bit.’  George and I made our way into the living room, where Molly was busy fluffing pillows behind Ginny’s head.  The smile on Ginny’s face was through gritted teeth and the expression on her face read ‘just shoot me please.’  It was going to be a fun visit.  Eventually Molly realized we had arrived and the usual Molly hugs and fuss occurred, remarking that I looked very well and that George needed a haircut.

 

“I think I’d like to walk around for a bit, Mum.”  Ginny began the process of easing her very pregnant self out of the chair, only to be stopped by Molly.

 

“No no no, dear, you want to rest right now.  Trust me; you won’t have any rest soon.  Here, let me put your feet up.”

 

Angelina walked into the room and put an arm around her husband’s waist.  “Well done, husband.  Didn’t even ask if I was here yet, you just walked in and couldn’t care less.”  Her smile belied her true attitude, as George leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

 

“Ah wife, good to see you.  Now where’s my butterbeer and slippers?  You’re not meeting expectations.”

 

Arthur’s chuckle was cut short by a sharp look from Molly.  “Yes, well.  Hank, I believe Melody is upstairs reading, she’s been expecting you.”

 

I made my way upstairs to find Melody sprawled out on her stomach, head propped up on an elbow reading one of my books.  “Find anything interesting?”

 

She looked up and I had to stifle a cringe when she turned down the corner of the page to mark her place.  I’d have to get her a bookmark.

 

“Well, not at first.  Nothing interesting happens in most of these, just a lot of talking.  I do like this one though.  Big barbarian, a lot of naked women and some magic, but they get the magic all wrong.”

 

I sat on the bed next to her.  “Well, Robert E. Howard didn’t know about the Wizarding world.  That’s pretty much how Muggles see magic, this unknowable mysterious thing used by strange people.”

 

“That’s not the case, you know.”

 

I put my head close to hers.  Of course I know that.  It’s knowable, but he did get the strange people part right.”

 

She put her arm around my neck.  “You’re mental, you know that, right?”

 

“Takes one to know one.”  I leaned in and gave her a nice, slow kiss.  After breaking apart I looked at her, “I really like your letters.”

 

“Yours aren’t half bad, either.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

The next morning I found myself in a large room upstairs with Harry; this was to be my first lesson on using my wand.  Time to learn if I could do anything except shoot red sparks and set Christmas presents on fire.  Harry was now on leave until the baby was born and I think he’d devised the lessons as a way to get his mind off of things.  Well, that and to avoid the imminent Ginny/Molly explosion.

 

“Ok, Hank, I think the best spell for you to learn is Protego.  It’s a shield spell, the one that Arthur used to protect you from the WLF the last time you were attacked.  You pronounce it Pro TE go, and imagine moving your wand from nine o’clock in a slightly downward motion up to two o’clock.  Got that?  Let’s give it a go.”

 

For the next half hour or so I attempted to use Protego, to no avail.  Harry thought that I might need some inspiration to achieve the spell so he cast very harmless spells at me.  I guess they’re harmless, because I had no idea what he was saying; I was concentrating on trying to cast Protego.  It didn’t work, and I ended up feeling like I’d stuck my tongue on a nine volt battery.  Eventually he gave up.

 

“I’m sorry, Hank.  You can practice, but I’m guessing that you might not be able to ever really cast a spell with your wand intentionally.”

 

 _I felt bad for him.  Here was the instructor of Dumbledore’s Army, the man who taught the Patronus spell to a bunch of students, and I couldn’t do what a first year Defense Against the Dark Arts student could probably do in their third week of classes._   “Don’t worry, Harry, it’s not your fault.  I may not be a complete Muggle, but I’m definitely not a wizard.”  We sat down on a bench alongside the wall, and I found myself looking around the room.  “What is this room?  I’ve never been in here.”

 

“I’m not sure, exactly.  Might be an old formal dining room or a meeting room.  We usually keep this room shut.  Don’t know what to do with it.  There are still some rooms that I’ve never been in here, always finding something new, and with the Black’s, it’s usually something nasty.”

 

I nodded my head and tried not to think about what Harry would classify as ‘nasty.’  I looked over as he took off his glasses and leaned against the wall.  “Nervous?”

 

“No.  Well, yes.  I’m not sure how it will go.”

 

“It’ll be fine, Harry.  Women have been having babies for centuries.”

 

“It’s not that, its…well…”

 

 _Ah.  Harry had what my Dad called the First Time Worries._   “You’ll be a great father, Harry.  You’re not the only one to feel like that.  I had the same conversation with my brother-in-law before my niece was born.”

 

“I haven’t had the best role models, Hank.  My Uncle Vernon…”

 

“From what Hermione and Ron have told me, he’s an asshole.  Don’t think about him, Harry.  Your father-in-law seems to have done a great job.  Despite what Hermione thinks, there’s no manual, you’ll figure it out.  Doesn’t mean the thought doesn’t scare the hell out of me, but you’ve done a lot of great things.  You’ll be fine.”

 

He put his glasses back on.  “I hope so.”  He looked over at me.  “What do you think, boy or girl?”

 

“I don’t know.  Ginny seems to think it’s a girl.”

 

“Ginny’s been calling it a girl ever since we found out that she’s pregnant.”

 

 _And it definitely would be easier to be the daughter of The Boy Who Lived than the eldest son, I thought.  Regardless of whether the baby was a boy or girl, it wouldn’t be easy to live with parents who are in the history books, let alone have the most famous wizard in the world as a father._ “Either way I think it’ll be fine.  How’s Ginny really holding up?  Molly must be driving her nuts.”

 

“Well, Ginny’s doing ok.  She’s faking a lot of naps just to get some peace.  Molly’s moved into the spare bedroom on the second floor.  She just showed up a couple of days ago, didn’t ask, just moved her things in.  I know Ginny’s nervous; I just hope everything goes ok.”  He chuckled.  “After Molly had been here for three days I caught Ginny jumping up and down in our bedroom.  She was trying to get things moving so her Mum would leave.”

 

“I don’t think it works that way, Harry.”

 

“I know, and I’m pretty sure Ginny knows, after all of the books Hermione has given her.  I think she was just at her wit’s end with being pregnant and having her Mum staying in the house.”  He stood up.  “You never told me what you think the baby will be, boy or girl?”

 

I stood up and we began to leave the room.  “I don’t know one way or the other, but my gut feeling is that it’s a boy.”

 

“Don’t tell Ginny, but I’m thinking boy as well.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Later that day Melody and I were lounging on a large couch in the living room when Harry brought in a surprise.  “Letter for you, Hank.”

 

I took the letter and realized that it was a Muggle letter.  Not just a letter, though; based on the size and quality of the envelope, it was an invitation.

 

“What are those things at the top?”  Melody was looking over my shoulder.  “And all the markings?”

 

“They’re called stamps.  The markings show that it’s been processed by the Post Office or the Royal Mail.  The stamps pay for the letter to be delivered.  Since this is from my Mom it had to come from Virginia, so she had to use special stamps.”

 

She shook her head.  “Seems too complicated to me.”

 

“It sort of is.  I think they do it on purpose.”  She looked at me over her glasses.  “Ok, I’ll open it.”

 

I was right.  It was the invitation.  Theodore Williams Boyd and Candice Elizabeth Stuart were getting married on July Fourth.  The invitation wasn’t the only thing in the envelope; there was also a letter from Mom.  I read it quickly and realized that I couldn’t delay it any longer.  It was time.

 

“Melody, do you have a passport?”

 

“Of course.  The Harpies play in a lot of different countries.”

 

“I don’t think you have a Muggle passport, do you?”

 

“No, why would I?”

 

“My brother is getting married on July Fourth.  I’m going to be a groomsman in the wedding.  How would you like to visit Virginia?”

 

I saw a devious look spread across her face.  “Why would you think I’d go to Virginia with you?”

 

“I kind of figured that I’d take the woman that I love.”

 

She turned her head slightly to the side.  “So, you’re in love with some woman.  Do I know her?”

 

 _She was not making this easy_.  “Yes, I believe you do.”

 

“Ginny’s married and ready to pop, and I think Ron might have a something to say about you and Hermione.”

 

 _Women_.  “It’s not Ginny or Hermione.”

 

“Are you saying that you’re in love with me?”

 

 _I didn’t really even need to think too long about it; I knew the answer_.  “Yes.  Yes I am.  I am in love with you, Melody Bramble.”

 

“Took you long enough to say it.  Now I owe George a Galleon.”

 

 _What?_   “You made a bet with George?”

 

“Yes, and I’m very disappointed in you.  I said you’d say it the first night you got here, and George said it’d take you a while.”

 

I leaned in close to her.  “I am sorry to disappoint you.  I promise not to do that very often.  But it is true.  I am in love with you.”

 

“That’s good, because I’m definitely in love with you.”  She kissed me and all of the worries of the world simply melted away.  Suddenly she stopped and looked up.

 

“Now I know why the bracelet tingles every now and then.”  She took my hand in hers.  “Now tell me about Virginia.”

 

-ooo-

 

 

We walked down to breakfast the next morning, and while walking by George I saw Melody put a Galleon down by his plate and then walk over to her chair.

 

Angelina gave us both a questioning look then turned to George.  “What’s that about?”

 

“Nothing.  Just a small, observant investment.”  George looked at the Galleon closely, as if he was trying to determine if it was a fake, and then pocketed it.

 

Angelina gave George a look that said ‘you’re telling me later’ and returned to her breakfast.

 

Molly was in full swing in the kitchen, as the bacon pieces turned themselves over at precisely the right time, the sausages were flipped and a bowl full of eggs was being magically stirred.  Watching her cook I wished that I could do those things, it was always such a production when I made breakfast, almost stressful at times.  Making sure that everything came out at the right time so nothing was cold was a process that had taken me a long time to get down, and being able to wave a wand would be so much easier.  I watched her go over to the calendar and mark off another day.

 

“Seven more days.  I can’t wait to have another grandchild.”  She looked over at George.  “Would you go tell your sister that breakfast is ready?”

 

George was shocked.  “Me?  Can’t one of the girls go?”

 

Molly shook her head.  “She’s your sister, George.”  I watched her look at the eggs and make a quick motion with her wand, sending the eggs into a waiting skillet.  “You haven’t spent much time with her since you’ve been here.”

 

“That’s because she’s been like a dragon with a toothache.”

 

“Oi!”  Angelina smacked him on the back of his head.  “You try being pregnant.”  She was silent for several seconds.  “That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

 

Molly chuckled.  “We’ve been trying to figure that spell out for years, Angelina.  George, go.”  She waved her hands as if she was shooing chickens across the yard.

 

“Fine.”  George got up and headed towards the staircase.  “But if I come back on fire I’m blaming you, Mum.”

 

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Angelina mouth the word ‘Galleon?’  Melody quickly shook her head and then smiled as if nothing had happened.  Women blame men for a lack of subtlety, but it obviously goes both ways.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

The rest of the week was wonderfully boring.  Ron and Hermione would stop in every so often to check on Ginny, and Ron had decided that I needed to learn Wizard’s Chess, so the evenings passed with me figuring out that Ron never intentionally loses a game to make someone feel better about their skills.  Hermione and Melody would sit in close conversation, and when Ginny would enter everyone would pamper her until she had had enough and made rude hand gestures.  Harry tried to run interference with Molly, but even his best efforts were futile.  Molly was determined to wait on her only daughter hand and foot while the calendar turned to The Day.

 

By mid-morning, on the first day of April, Grimmauld Place was full of Weasleys, the only exception being Charlie, but evidently the Weasley blood is strong as his owl asking about status arrived after lunch.  I felt sorry for the owl as Ginny took the letter abruptly from its leg, and after reading it she pulled out her wand and set the letter on fire.  We all watched the ash fall to the kitchen table, and no comments were made as Ginny left to go sit in the rocking chair in the baby’s room.  Ginny had laid down the law earlier that no one was to disturb her when she was in the nursery, and it was the one edict that Molly obeyed.

 

The afternoon passed with a small birthday party for George and Fred.  Molly made sure that we didn’t forget Fred, and I had a good time hearing about all of the pranks the twins had pulled at Hogwarts.  Hopefully none of my students had heard those stories and the toilet seats would all be safe.  Later, while practicing Wizard’s Chess with Melody I noticed someone sit down to watch, but I didn’t acknowledge them.  I was concentrating.

 

“Try moving your bishop.”  I looked up to see Percy sitting on a coffee table looking at the board.

 

Well, I obviously didn’t know what I was doing, so I moved my bishop.  I looked over at Percy, and it seemed he had more on his mind than chess.  He noticed my look and leaned in closer so that he couldn’t be overheard by the rest of the room.

 

“Hank, I thought I might give you some advance warning.  You’re going to be called to appear before the Wizangamot once the Easter break is over.  It’s the magical abilities test.  You’re going to be the Muggle guinea pig.”

 

I looked up at him, worried.

 

He shook his head as if to say it was not a big deal.  “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.  Just the last piece of the puzzle.”  He looked back at the board as Melody had just made a move.  “Oh, sorry.  Her queen has you.  Ron’s really much better at this than I am.”

 

_Great.  Now I had to worry about what this test was going to be.  After Easter, at least it would be soon.  He’d said not to worry, but that was exactly what I was doing.”_

 

“Hank, its checkmate.”  I looked over to see Melody smiling very apologetically.  “Sorry.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

“Anything, Ginny?”  Angelina Weasley looked at her sister in law, sitting in the big chair by the bookcase.  April 1st had come and gone, and now Ginny Potter was officially past her due date.

 

“It’s not uncommon with first babies, dear.”  Molly was trying to be reassuring but it only made Ginny irritated.  I guess she was irritated, as she turned her head towards the window.

 

George looked at his wife, who shook her head negatively, but he shook his positively.  “How about now, Ginny?

‘

Ginny shook her head ‘no.’

 

Maybe five seconds elapsed before George was back at it.  “How about now?”

 

Ginny shook her head harder.

 

This time George waited almost a half minute.  “Now?  Anything?”

 

Ginny kept her eyes focused out the window but held up her wand.

 

“Leave her alone, George.  It’s not easy.  You’ll find out soon enough.”  Molly smiled over at George and Angelina, who registered identical looks of terror.

 

I was very sympathetic to Ginny’s discomfort but, to be honest, I was too happy to really be any support.  I’d spent the last few days telling Melody about Virginia, my family, and what she could expect at the wedding.  She’d made me promise to give her ‘Muggle Lessons’ so she wouldn’t out herself as a witch.  She’d also coerced a confession out of me; I’d written Mom that I’d met someone while I was in Britain and that I hoped to bring her to the wedding.  The invitation and letter wasn’t the only mail that I’d received from America as there had been several letters, and I’d tried to tell Mom, without really giving any details, that I had found a teaching position and was doing more than hiking around the Highlands.  She had been glad, as she was worried that I’d end up drinking the equivalent of a distillery and drowning in a loch.  I had tried to describe Melody as much as possible without letting on that she’s a witch, and it hadn’t been easy, but one of Mom’s last letters had been very encouraging.  She reminded me of one of Gran’s sayings, that when a door closes another one opens.

 

To be honest I rarely thought of Janine anymore except when I realized that Melody actually thought of my feelings, that she wasn’t trying to change me, she just loved me for me.  Sure, there were things that I did that drove her nuts, like just dropping my clothes on the floor before going to bed.  She did things like turning down pages of books to mark her place, but if that was one of the biggest problems I had with her, then I figured I could live with that.

 

What I had a hard time dealing with, though, was the calendar and the clock.  It was Saturday afternoon, and on Sunday afternoon we would be heading back to Hogwarts.  For the Weasleys it meant they might have to rearrange things to attend the birth of Harry and Ginny’s baby, Bill and Fleur had already left with Victoire, but for me it meant that I’d be leaving Melody.  She was planning on going back to her house, as the press had finally died down and the Harpies had asked her to return.  It was back to life and our time together would be limited again.  No more waking up to find her next to me, something that I really was amazed to see every morning, even if she had stolen all of the covers during the middle of the night and her feet always seemed to be ice cubes.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Melody sat on the bed as I packed my trunk.  Neither of us really wanted to talk about it, but we knew it was only going to be for a short while.  We had the Virginia plans to iron out, we had something to look forward to.  I had my underwear in my hand when Angelina came bounding up the steps.

 

“It’s time!”  She looked over at my hand.  “Nice undies, Hank.  Come on, let’s go!

 

We hurtled down the steps and found Ginny squeezing Harry’s hand for all she was worth.  When she finished Harry shook his hand rapidly.  I remembered my brother-in-law’s advice and went to him quickly.

 

“Don’t let her grab your fingers, hold her hand like you’re going to arm wrestle.  John said it’ll save you a broken finger.”  He didn’t say anything but nodded vigorously.

 

“Right, Ginny and Harry first.”  Arthur held out the Floo powder pot.  “In you go.”

 

Harry held on to Ginny’s hand and with the other threw down the powder and practically yelled “St. Mungo’s!”  After a flash of green they were gone, and before anyone could say anything Molly walked past Arthur, grabbed the Floo powder and was away.

 

George and Angelina were off next, and right before Arthur left he looked at Melody.  “Almost forgot, send a message to Ron and Hermione please.”  Another green flash, another Weasley gone.

 

I looked over to Melody.  “Want me to get Calliope?”

 

She shook her head.  “No time for that.”  She drew her wand and a silvery, almost transparent figure began to materialize, forming slowly, and then finally gained the shape of a _very_ large cat.   Once fully formed the silvery cat disappeared from the room at speed and as if gliding on ice.

 

“What was that?”

 

“My patronus.  I had to tell Hermione and Ron quickly and it’s faster than an owl.  Hurry!”  She took my hand and we stood in the fireplace.

 

“That was a really big cat.  What kind was it?”

 

“You’re stuck on that right now?”  She grabbed the Floo powder, and almost as soon as she said ‘St. Mungo’s’ we were gone.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

George was drooling.  I wished I had a camera, as that shot would have been priceless.  He was sleeping in a chair in the waiting room, arm straight down over the side and his head was resting on a fake plant.  At least he was asleep, what I wished I could have done.  The bulk of the Weasleys were sleeping except for Arthur, who sat in a chair looking at his children.  After noticing me look at him he pointed at George.

 

“He and Fred used to do that all the time.  We’d have people over and they’d try to stay up late, but they never could.  They could fall asleep anywhere.”

 

The talk about sleep was making me realize how late, or actually early it was.  I couldn’t help it after that, I yawned.

 

“Go ahead and get some sleep, Hank.  Not much else we can do at this point.”

 

I shook my head.  “Hermione would kill me if she found out I was sleeping on the job.”

 

After we had all arrived and it was determined that Baby Potter would not appear anytime in the near future, Hermione had made a schedule for the family members and friends.  We would sleep in shifts so that if anything happened one of us would be awake.  Ron had reminded Hermione that he’d just been on a double shift, so he was sleeping immediately, earning him a supposed week on the couch.  He simply shrugged and pulled his Auror robes over his head and started snoring almost straight away.

 

A week on anybody’s couch seemed fine to me, but I had to stay awake.  “Arthur, I think I’m going to get something to eat and a cup of coffee.  Want anything?”

 

Arthur shook his head.  “I’m fine, Hank, you go ahead.”

 

I slowly moved Melody’s head off of my shoulder and rested it on the sleeping form of Fleur Weasley.  We were surprised when Fleur arrived instead of Bill, but she was insistent that Ginny would want to talk to another mother with a small child.  There were some arguments that even Bill couldn’t win, I guess.  After stretching my legs I asked the nurse at the desk for the whereabouts of the cafeteria and walked through the halls, my footsteps echoing through the brightly lit empty corridors.

 

After my mistake of not bringing Wizarding money to a dinner with Melody I kept a couple of Galleons and a few Sickles and Gnuts in my pocket at all times, just to be safe.  Made my pants a bit heavier than an ATM card but I had learned to deal with it.  I found a ham sandwich and some chips (or crisps, as I had been taught) and poured myself the largest cup of coffee available.  When I got to the checkout counter the middle-aged witch running the cash register was entirely too talkative for three in the morning.

 

“Long night, I take it?  That’ll be two Sickles and a Gnut.”

 

“Yeah.”  I handed her the money.  “A friend of mine is having a baby.”

 

She took a look at me and then smacked her gum loudly.  “I know you!  You’ve been in _The Prophet_.  You’re the Muggle.”

_Yeah.  I’m the only Muggle in Britain_.  “Yeah, that’s me.”

 

“An American Muggle teaching at Hogwarts.  What’ll happen next?  I bet you’re here for Ginny Potter.  I would’ve thought she’d a’ been here already, she’s over her due date, innit she?”

 

I looked at her nametag.  Constance.  I just really wanted to go eat my sandwich and drink my coffee, I didn’t want to chat with the checkout witch, but I remembered Harry’s reminder to be kind to everyone or it would end up in the paper somehow.  “Just a bit.”

 

“Well, my Bernard was almost five days late, but after that they were like clockwork.”

 

I nodded my head.  _Great.  Glad you can shoot out children on schedule._   “Good to know.  I need to get back now.”

 

“Sure thing, luv.  Tell Mrs. Potter good luck, we can’t wait to hear if it’s a boy or a girl.”

 

I waved feebly and headed back to the waiting room, gingerly sipping coffee as I walked.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

The coffee didn’t improve my staying powers, as I eventually succumbed to just ‘resting my eyes’ as Gran used to say.  Besides not being strong enough the coffee was horrible, not helped by the fact that in my haste to avoid Constance the chatty checkout witch I had forgotten to add milk and sugar.  I can drink black coffee if the coffee is good, but this wasn’t, nowhere close to Neeker’s brew.  I don’t know how long I was out, but I woke up to Arthur and Melody shaking me.

 

“Hank, wake up.  Hank?  Sweetie?”  Melody was leaning over me, moving my hair with her hand.

 

“Boy or girl?”

 

Arthur shook his head.  “Neither.  It’s the press.  I can’t figure out how they knew.”  He looked at Melody.  “We took the Floo directly here.  The doctors and nurses wouldn’t say anything, it’s against their oath.”

 

I sat up and rubbed my slightly burning eyes, then reached over on the windowsill for my glasses.  “Well how did they find out about Ginny being pregnant anyway?”  I rubbed my neck; obviously I hadn’t slept in the best position.

 

Melody snapped her head over to me.  “What was that?”

 

“How’d they find out Ginny was pregnant in the first place?”

 

Melody began pacing.  “Hank we interviewed all of the doctors and nurses.  They were the only ones who knew, and not even all of them knew, just the maternity ward staff.”

 

I wasn’t all the way awake, but something was hovering just at the edge of understanding, like a picture that was fuzzy.  I closed my eyes tightly then reopened them and blinked several times.  Suddenly the picture became clear.

 

“Melody, did you talk to the cafeteria workers?”

 

“No.  Why?”

 

“Because the woman who’s working down there would not shut up.  She recognized me and figured out I was here for Ginny and Harry.  She said it was normal for women to go over their due date on the first baby, but after that…”

 

Melody snapped her fingers.  “That’s it.  That’s my leak.  She must have overheard doctors or nurses talking in the cafeteria.  Ginny never told anyone but her family and the Harpies what her due date was.”  She looked over at Arthur.  “I can’t do much about it right now, but when I can I’ll get my files from the office.  I’ve got the contacts for St. Mungo’s, and I’ll have them do a little investigation.”

 

He shrugged his shoulders.  “Well, the boggart’s out of the bag so don’t worry about that.  If I could ask a favor, though…”

 

Melody nodded.  “I’ll take care of it.  Come on, Hank.  We’re going to have a little fun with the press.”

 

 _Um, ok?  What was I going to do?_   At that point the combination of fatigue and interrupted sleep made additional rational thought impossible, so I simply did as I was told.

 

It wasn’t long after that when we arrived in front of the assembled reporters and photographers.  After the initial attack of flashbulbs and shouts Melody quieted the throng of press in the front of the hospital.  She pointed to a short wizard with a long black beard.  “Jim?”

 

“Can you confirm that Ginny Potter is having her baby?”

 

“Yes, she was admitted to the St. Mungo’s Maternity Ward around three in the afternoon on Saturday.”  She pointed to a rather large man who was wearing his pajamas and robe.  “Looks like we disturbed your beauty rest, Philomeus.”

 

“A reporter’s never off the clock.  Is it true that they arrived on the back of a hippogriff?”

 

Melody shook her head.  “That’s a good one.  No, they arrived via Floo just like every other witch and wizard.”

 

Before she could recognize another reporter a woman’s voice shouted down the rest.  “How is Mrs. Potter holding up?  I know she must be distraught as the baby is not arriving on her brothers’ birthday as planned.  Will she be naming the baby Fred if it’s a boy?”

 

A very tight smile formed on Melody’s face.  “Rita Skeeter, so glad you could make it.  I don’t think I’ll be answering that question or any of your questions.  You can call it a night.”  She pointed to a very short witch who was wearing a shockingly bright pink robe and hat.  “Margaret?”

 

“Melody, we see that Professor Muggle is here with you.  We know about your friendship with the Potters, but our readers want to know, with the other witch and the possibility of attack from the WLF, are you two a couple?”

_Fuck me, who was this woman?  Why am I involved now?_   I stood against one of the pillars outside the hospital and closed my eyes every now and then when a flashbulb went off.  After regaining my sight I noticed that Melody was holding her hand out to me.  I went up and held her hand.

 

She motioned for me to lean down, and then whispered in my ear “Kiss me, and make it a good one.”

 

 _Well allrighty, then._   I leaned down, picked her up beneath her arms and planted a big one on her.  I think the fact that I picked her up must have surprised her, because initially I seemed to be doing most of the kissing, but eventually it worked itself out.  I sat her down and she looked over to Margaret.

 

“I think that should answer your reader’s questions.”  She looked to the crowd.  “That will be all for now, when the baby’s born we will make the announcement.  No more questions.  Thank you.”  With that she grabbed my hand and we walked back into the hospital.

 

I looked over to her.  “Kiss me, and make it a good one?”

 

“That will get a lot of ink.  Plus it will give Ginny and Harry some breathing space.”

 

 _And dispel the whole Medea issue for good, at least in regards to competition_.  “Who’s the witch in the Easter egg pink robes?”

 

Melody laughed.  “Head reporter for your favorite magazine.”

 

 _I didn’t get it._   “My favorite magazine?”

 

“ _Witch Weekly_ , of course.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

When we re-entered the Waiting Room it was empty.  Melody almost pulled my arm out of the socket as we headed towards Ginny’s room.  “For the love of Helga!  We missed it!”

 

As we opened the door the room was filled with a large amount of Weasleys and three Potters.  Ginny was holding the baby while Harry stood beside her, and she was obviously exhausted but beaming.  We walked over to the bed and Ginny smiled.  “I’d like you to meet James Sirius Potter.  James, this is Melody and Hank.”

 

Melody immediately leaned down to look at James and I shook Harry’s hand.

 

“She thought he was going to be a girl, looks like we were right, Harry.”

 

“Yeah, we were.  She was a bit shocked.  When the Healer told us ‘it’s a boy’ Ginny’s first words were ‘What? A boy?  A boy!’  That’ll be a good story to tell James someday.”

 

Eventually everyone took turns holding James while George took pictures.  I knew he had a camera.  Bets were made on what color hair James would have, as right now, according to Arthur, he shared Uncle Bilius’ complete lack of hair.  When it was Hermione’s turn to hold James I watched Ron, and from the look on his face I could tell he was contemplating what it would be like to see Hermione hold one of their own, but when she looked at him Ron’s expression changed immediately.  When James came over to Melody and me, she was a bit hesitant.

 

“I’ve never really been around babies this new.”

 

I took James from Fleur and cradled him closely.  “It’s ok; I learned when my niece was born.  You just have to be very gentle and make sure you support the head.”  I looked at the blissfully sleeping little boy.  “Hey there, James.  If you can sleep through all of this you’ll fit in just fine.”

 

Arthur chuckled next to me.  “He’s not the only one sleeping, look at the chair in the corner.”  There, utterly exhausted, slept Molly.  The very long night and early morning had finally caught up with her.

 

When the door opened much later nobody seemed to pay too much attention, after all the Healers who had been in and out checking on both Ginny and baby James everyone had become accustomed to the interruptions.  But if the man who stood just inside the doorway was a Healer then I’m Filch.

 

“So nobody’s going to tell me ‘hello’ when I’ve come all this way to see my new nephew?”

 

Charlie Weasley stood in the doorway, still wearing what must have been his work clothes as they were sooty and scarred.  He walked over to the bed and kissed Ginny, shook Harry’s hand and immediately took James from Percy’s arms.  Looking back at his sister he nodded down to the baby.

 

“Glad you kept him in long enough for me to manage the portkeys.  If it wasn’t for Hermione I wouldn’t have made it when I did.”

 

Hermione shrugged as everyone looked at her.  “I know some people who helped prepare the portkeys.  They’ve been on standby to cast the spells.”

 

Charlie laughed.  “Yeah, since Wednesday.”

 

An elderly Healer then came in and told everyone that we had to leave to give Ginny her rest.  After hugs, kisses and handshakes we all filed out into the waiting room.  Standing next to George I watched Charlie come up and hand him a Galleon.

 

I laughed at Charlie.  “Ginny convinced you the baby was a girl, didn’t she?”

 

Charlie nodded.  “I should know by now, don’t bet against George.  Not a good idea.”

 

George smiled very broadly.  “Did you hear that, Melody?  Not a good idea to bet against me.”  George held up the Galleon.

 

Melody looked up from talking to Hermione.  “Sod off, George.”

 

Charlie elbowed me and pointed towards Melody.  “What’s all that about?”

 

“No idea, Charlie.  None whatsoever.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

At two in the afternoon Melody and I were lying flat on our backs on the floor of the library at Grimmauld Place.  I used to pull all-nighters in college and knew how to get by with minimal sleep, but this was ridiculous.  Melody had been busy the whole morning and the evidence lay on the floor beside us.  The first edition of _The Prophet_ for Sunday had the headline

 

**BOY WHO LIVED FIRSTBORN CHILD IMMINENT!**

 

The second, special edition screamed

 

**BOY WHO LIVED HAS A SON!  EXCLUSIVE PHOTOS INSIDE!**

 

The ceiling at Grimmauld Place really needed painting.  That was about all I could think of at that time I was so tired.  I glanced over at Melody’s attempt to keep Ginny and Harry from being the top news of the first edition, and it had partially worked.  We were the focus of the lower half of the paper with the picture Melody had orchestrated and an article about Professor Muggle finding love with his ‘high-strung witch.’  The special edition, though, was all about Harry, Ginny and James.  Harry didn’t want James’ picture in the paper, but Melody told him that if they didn’t do it now they’d have people doing all sorts of things to be the first to get the photo.  The tipping point was when Hermione suggested that if they sold the exclusive rights to _The Prophet_ they could donate the money to charity.  If you looked very closely at the bottom of the picture of Ginny holding James while Harry stood behind her you would see ‘All proceeds from this exclusive picture were donated to The War Orphans Fund.’

 

Across the floor Melody groaned.  “I still need to go to my Harpies office and get the St. Mungo’s file.”

 

“Don’t worry about that right now.  I’m sure you’ll work it out tomorrow or the next day.”

 

“Mmm-hmmm.”

 

 _Was that a leak on the ceiling?_   _It’s no wonder that it’s been missed, the ceilings had to be over twelve feet tall.  No way would their house elf ever see that._ See that.  My students were going to see another picture in the paper.  This one would really get them talking.  I’d probably never hear the end of it.  Shit, I was never going to live this one down with George.

 

“Melody?  No response.  “Mel?  You asleep?”

 

She obviously was.  Well, if she was asleep I would just rest my eyes for a few minutes.  After that I had to finish packing my trunk.  Just a few minutes.

 

The blinding flash woke me suddenly.  I leaned up on my elbows to see George balancing on the back of a couch with a camera.

 

“These are the best pictures.  When Victoire was born you should have seen the Burrow afterwards.  Zonked out Weasleys and Delacour’s everywhere.”

 

“You suck, George.”

 

“Whatever, mate.  Come on; get your arse off the floor.  Time for us to head back to Hogwarts.”  He hopped off the couch and stepped over Melody on his way out of the room.

 

I rolled over and brushed Melody’s hair off of her face.  “Wake up, Mel.  I’ve got to go.”

 

“Unnnhhh….”  She leaned up onto an elbow.  “Did I fall asleep on the floor?”

 

“Yep.  Don’t feel bad.  So did I.”

 

“It’s that time, isn’t it?”

 

“Yeah.  It is.  I have to go, love.”

 

“Mmmm…I like hearing that.”  She blinked her eyes several times.  “Where are my glasses?”

 

“No clue.  I don’t know where mine are, either.  Have to be here somewhere.”  I got up and helped pull her to her feet. “I need to finish packing upstairs.”

 

Before I could leave she held my hand tightly, and with her other hand took out her wand and closed the door.  “Then let’s say goodbye here where we have some privacy.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

The moment we arrived near Hogwarts, George acted as I anticipated; he slapped me on the back and tried to sound official and authoritative.

 

“As an official Hogwarts educational professional, I shouldn’t be saying this, but...nice picture in the paper, Hank.  I’m sure your students will like that one.”  Then he wagged his eyebrows and made kissing noises.

 

So much for being authoritative.  I really wanted to punch him in the arm or something, but to be honest the only thing I was really concentrating on at that point was my bed.  I mumbled something and followed him up the lane to the Hogwarts front gate.  Before George could open the doors they swung open, revealing a smiling Neville.

 

“Good holiday, I take it?”

 

I laughed.  “Neville, that’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one.”


	15. Ninety-Eight Point Seven Percent

**Chapter 15:  Ninety-Eight Point Seven Percent**

 

 

My first day back at Hogwarts after the Easter vacation went better than I expected.  There were some kissing noises when I walked into my first class, and the first years were quite, um, excitable.  Lavinia Ryder looked very pleased with herself, as if she had played an important part in the events that led to the picture in _The Prophet_.  While Harry and Ginny’s new son was a big topic of conversation, I was the main event at Hogwarts.  I had already resigned myself to hearing comments and being teased, but the next class was the one I was dreading the most:  the fourth years.

 

I decided to wait at my desk while they entered, hopefully to prevent a prank on a grand scale, but when they took their seats I was wary.  None of them as much as made a comment; instead they sat at their tables, opened their books and acted like nothing at all had happened over Easter break.  That made me very nervous, so I took the enchanted notebook out of the desk and carried it with me as if I was reading my notes from it.  Nothing new.  No magic had been done in the classroom.  I glanced over at Poesy Phillips and she simply sat there with a completely attentive look upon her face, as if she was simply waiting for the bus to arrive or her program to start on the wireless.  Well, if they wanted a normal Muggle Studies class, then who was I to disappoint them?

 

By the time I finished the lesson on the internet I was a nervous wreck, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop and it simply hadn’t.  Before class ended I collected the parchment that was due from the assignment over Easter, and each student had simply smiled when handing in their work.  Maybe they’d got the hint.  Maybe they had simply decided that I had given them entirely too much ammunition and that the degree of difficulty was below their level.  As the last student exited the classroom I sat back in my chair and heaved a great sigh of relief.  I’d survived.  The stack of parchment on my desk would need grading eventually, no time like the present.  I pulled a parchment over and unrolled it.

 

The second that I unrolled the parchment the writing began to disappear, fading away as if it was being unwritten, and slowly the picture from _The Prophet_ began to materialize.  Underneath the picture was some writing, which began to display with every third letter coming into focus until eventually I could read the words.

 

_Class: Advanced Muggle Studies_

_Assignment: Female Witch Anatomy_

_Student: Professor Muggle_

_Grade:  Outstanding_

 

Poesy Phillips had struck again.  I opened the notebook fully expecting to see her name, and I did, but not a new entry.  Strange.  I took the next parchment from the stack, unrolled it and watched the same scene play out.  Then the next, and the next, until finally I had gone through all of them.  Every single assignment turned in had been the same.

 

“Professor Boyd?  Do you have a moment?”  Cho Chang stood in my door, holding a piece of parchment.

 

 _No.  It couldn’t be._   “Sure.  What’s up?”

 

She walked over and noticed the identical parchments on my desk.  “It looks as if my Charms assignment has turned into your, ah, coursework.”

 

“The same thing happened to you?”

 

She shook her head ‘yes’ and sat at one of the tables in the front.  “I think I overheard the same thing happening to the Defense parchments as well.”

 

 _Oh good grief._   In the next fifteen minutes every Professor at Hogwarts came into my office with the same story; all papers turned in that day for that specific class period had become my Advanced Muggle Studies picture.

 

Neville even got a chuckle out of that.  He looked over at the large stacks of parchment and the scene of the kiss in front of St. Mungo’s repeated itself over and over.  “You know, Hank, it’s actually a pretty good one.  That was a talented charm.”

 

I saw George nod his head.  “I’m guessing the original charm was put onto a single parchment, and then the parchment was replicated.  Good bit about the dissolving letters and the timing, that’s impressive.  Neville’s right, some real talent.  Not to mention cooperation between all of the houses.”

 

“So what are you going to do about it, Neville?”  I hoped to hear something that might punish the perpetrator.  Not too much, mind you, but enough to hopefully dissuade the culprit from attempting further endeavors.

 

“I’m not going to do anything, Hank.  Well, I might say something to a few specific students, but I think it’s a good spot of fun.  If we don’t receive their real assignments, though, then we’ll have to deal with it.”

 

 _Nice_.  _Oh well, I guess it was better than being the Professor that all of the students hated._

 

The impromptu staff meeting broke up and everyone began to leave when I grabbed George’s arm.  “Listen, you’ve got to help me out, here.”

 

“Me?  I had nothing to do with it.”

 

“That’s not what I’m talking about.  We both know, and I have the proof in the notebook, that Poesy Phillips is the main culprit in that class.  George, make her an offer to work with you next summer, but make it conditional.  Tell her that if she does anything else to me that the internship or whatever you want to call it is off the table.”

 

George arched an eyebrow, considering my request.  “I can’t cut her off completely, that’d stifle her creativity.  Bad for business.  An active mind is a creative mind.  I could say that she couldn’t do anything except some very small things, confined to the classroom that ended as soon as your class was over.  How about that?”

 

“Fine, whatever.  Just no more big things like this.”

 

“I’ll consider it, Hank.  Internships are expensive, you know.  Training, staff robes…”

 

 _I’d heard that kind of stuff before.  Great, there went my money._   “How much, George.”

 

He shook his head, exaggerating great offense.  “Oh, I couldn’t take your money.  I think your telling Mum in casual conversation that Ron and Hermione should have a baby soon would do well enough.”

 

“How am I going to work that in?”

 

He laughed.  “That’s not my problem, is it?”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Melody’s letter that day was about the teasing she’d taken at her office, the meeting with St. Mungo’s and her complete shock that her mother hadn’t contacted her.  She’d been over to see the Potters and two of three Potters were exhausted.  The third, and smallest one, was either very content or very loud and hungry.  I would see her soon, as she promised to come up for the next Quidditch match.  Her attendance wouldn’t be purely social, as she would be coming with a Harpies scout to see Phillipa Fahey, the Head Girl and Gryffindor Chaser.

 

A knock on the door prevented me from reading her letter through a second time.  _Now what?_   “Come in.”

 

Carrick Frye opened the door, out of breath.  “Headmaster Longbottom says you’re to go to his office, right now.”

 

 _What had happened?  Why did Neville want to see me immediately?  Was it…oh no, Melody.  Something had happened.  The WLF.  Please, no, not that._   “Of course, go back to your dormitory, Carrick.”  I left the room in a rush, not even remembering to close the door.

 

I ran for all I was worth to Neville’s office and when I arrived at the gargoyles I was so out of breath that I couldn’t even say the password.  The gargoyle on the right side didn’t want to let me in, but the gargoyle on the left told him he was an idiot and opened the door.  Neville was seated behind his desk, and when I stepped into the room the two people in chairs facing away from me stood up.  Ron and Hermione looked at me, and I could tell Hermione was nervous.  Ron just looked grimly calm.

 

“What is it?  Is Melody ok?”  I looked to their faces hoping to find a clue.

 

Hermione beat them all to the punch.  “She’s fine, Hank, really.  She’s fine.  You’re to go in front of the Wizangamot within the next hour.”

 

I was relieved, then confused.  “What?  Why?” _I’d already given my testimony, what the hell else would they want? Oh._

 

Neville walked around his desk and put his hand on my shoulder.  “It’s the test, Hank.  They’ve been debating all day, and they want you to do the test.”

 

“It’s ok, Hank.  I’ll be there with you.”  Hermione looked over to her husband.  “Ron’s here to make sure we get there all right.  I’ll be your counsel tonight.”

 

I watched a plant snake a tendril out and wrap around the base of a lamp.  Melody was ok.  Nothing had happened to her.  I had to go back in front of that group of witches and wizards, but Hermione would be there with me, and Ron was my bodyguard.  “What kind of test?”

 

“We don’t know, Hank.  I just know that they gave the order and we’re due there very soon.”  Hermione looked over to Ron, and he nodded back.  “We should be going now.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Once again I sat in the big room feeling like an exhibition on display.  Hermione stood at my side and eventually the formalities of opening the meeting were completed.  This time I was not required to swear to tell the truth, though.  Kingsley sat stone-faced and at what must have been the appointed time he nodded to a witch standing in the row nearest to him.  She left the rows and then several moments later reappeared on my level of the room pushing a large, tall, thin object covered in a black cloth.  It came to rest a few feet in front of me, and I looked up to Hermione who smiled weakly at me.

 

“Esteemed members of the Wizangamot.”  It was the witch who had brought the object into the room.  “I have before me the M.A.L.T., the Magical Abilities Level Test.  As we have discussed at length today, this item will record the amount of magical abilities in any living thing, be it person, creature or plant.  The accuracy of the M.A.L.T. has been proven through demonstration in this very room, and now Professor Boyd’s magical ability levels will be determined.”

 

I looked up at Hermione “I thought the legislation was dead?”

 

“Just do as they ask, Hank.”

 

The witch pulled the cover off of the item which resembled a small doorway, much too small for me to walk through.  A series of dials and arrows covered a small panel on the side of the doorway.  She looked over at me.  “Professor Boyd, if you would step over here please.”

 

I walked to the doorway which stood about to my waist.  The witch took out her wand and waved it at the M.A.L.T. and the doorway expanded to become the size of a regular door.

 

“Professor Boyd, if you would please step inside the M.A.L.T. and please stay very still underneath.”

 

My steps echoed through the chamber as I stood inside the doorframe.  The witch waved her wand and I was enveloped in a pale yellow fog.   _What would the results mean?  They couldn’t kick me out of my teaching job for being too much of a Muggle, as that was the reason I was hired in the first place._   The fog thickened and it felt as if every hair on my body was standing on end, but before I could even think about saying or doing anything the fog suddenly dissipated.

 

Kingsley’s booming voice broke the silence.  “Mrs. Henfarb, the results please?”

 

The witch, or Mrs. Henfarb, examined her dials and arrows.  “The M.A.L.T. readings indicate…” she looked at the enchanted item again “Ninety-eight point seven percent Muggle.”

 

Hermione stepped forward.  “And the other results?  Does the M.A.L.T. say what the remaining one point three percent is?”  Hermione was looking over at me, and this time the smile was definitely not weak.

 

“Yes, Madam Undersecretary, it does.  One point three percent Wizard.”

 

At this point the room dissolved into conversation, some shouts and eventually general tumult.  When the witches and wizards regained their composure, additional tests were run using Hermione and Mrs. Henfarb.  Mrs. Henfarb’s reading was one hundred percent witch while Hermione’s came back at ninety-nine point eight percent witch.  Kingsley eventually put a stop to the calls for additional tests and recalibration of the M.A.L.T.

 

“We will now excuse Professor Boyd and continue our discussion.  Professor Boyd, thank you for your assistance.”

 

A thin wizard shouted an objection from the back.  “Just because Mr. Boyd has a drop of magical blood doesn’t mean that the agreements he signed eliminate the Obliviation clauses.  Even a ninety-eight percent Muggle…”

 

Hermione automatically corrected him.  “Ninety-eight point seven.”

 

The wizard’s tone was less than enthusiastic about having been corrected.  “Thank you, Madam Undersecretary.  I stand corrected.  At ninety-eight point seven Mr. Boyd’s results indicate that he is mostly a Muggle.  The contracts are valid and are still enforceable.”

 

“Thank you for your input, Mr. Postle.  The topic at hand is not Professor Boyd’s contract and agreements, but the legislation.”  He looked towards Hermione and me.  “Professor Boyd, we thank you for your prompt cooperation, you are dismissed.”

 

We walked out of the room quickly towards Ron, who was waiting on a bench. “Hermione, what the hell just happened in there?”

 

“What happened, Hermione?”  Ron looked expectantly towards his wife.

 

“Hank is ninety-eight point seven percent Muggle.”  She was smiling.

 

“Hey, I think I liked being called a one point three percent Wizard.”  _I had proof, sort of.  It wasn’t like I had a business card that said “Only a 1.3% Wizard!” or anything, but I wasn’t a complete Muggle!_

 

Ron walked over and put his arm around Hermione, and we headed towards the Floo.  “Listen to you two, you sound like Percy.  ‘One point five percent this, eight point seven six that.’  I swear he loves that kind of stuff.”

 

Hermione stopped walking, leaving Ron and me to take several steps before we realized she wasn’t with us.

 

Ron cocked an eyebrow at me then looked towards his wife.  “What’s wrong, love?”

 

“Ron, you are brilliant!”  She walked over and gave him a big kiss, then grabbed both of our arms and we continued walking.  Ron looked over at me and made a face that indicated that he had no idea what she was talking about.

 

I had no idea what she was talking about, either, but I kept thinking about the Obliviation clause in my contract, and how I was going to work that out.  The wedding was in July.  Term ended in June.  Melody had no idea about the Obliviation clause.  I needed a drink.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

People say many derogatory things about baseball; it’s too slow, there are too many breaks, there are too many rules and some players are not in the best physical condition.  Valid points, all.  I mean, there are some pitchers who I could easily beat in a sprint and I haven’t been actively running since, well, um, college.  But there is one thing that is definitely true:  no baseball game has been played for all nine innings in that type of pouring rain.  Rain delays aren’t a bad thing, and there’s a reason why domed stadiums exist.  Quidditch is a lot like American football in that it doesn’t matter what the elements are, the game (or match) goes on.

 

The weather would explain why I had sat next to Melody for the last hour with hardly any conversation, as we both looked like we had jumped in the lake.  Smyrna Graham, the Harpies scout, looked as if she had just stepped out of her bedroom; she was as dry as a bone.  Something about an advanced waterproofing charm that’d she’d learned on her travels in the Amazon rainforest, but it didn’t matter, I was miserable.  The Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor match was closely contested and to be honest I’d given up caring who won after about the first fifteen minutes.  Melody’s initial attempts to dry our clothes worked fine for about, oh, five minutes, so she’d given up and kept looking for the Snitch.

 

“Mel, do you think anyone would notice if we left early?”

 

“Of course.  You’re committed.  Just wait until the match is over, Hank.  I’ve been in worse weather.”

 

“The weather gets worse than this in Britain?”

 

“You poor thing.”

 

I had passed my absorbency threshold long before the Ravenclaw Seeker caught the Snitch, resulting in massive cheers amongst Ravenclaw supporters and dashed hopes amongst the Gryffindors; Ravenclaw and Gryffindor were now tied for the House Cup.  Hufflepuff and Slytherin had fallen back and only some miracle would give them the House Cup at this point.

 

Melody and I walked back towards the castle, hurrying in the rain.  I had been thinking it the entire match, and I couldn’t hold back any longer.  “You’ve lived here all your life, you know this place and you didn’t bring an umbrella?”

 

“Are you trying to make me angry?”

 

I couldn’t tell if she was serious or not, so I took her hand.  “Let’s go get dried off.”  My happiness didn’t last long, though.  I didn’t know how she was going to take the conversation I knew we had to have.  I guess the rain was appropriate that day.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

“Would you just spit it out already?  Are you breaking up with me?”

 

Melody looked at me with a mixture of fear and irritation.  She sat on my bed while I had paced for a bit, sat on my desk, paced again and returned to the desk.  Immediately after sitting down I had returned to pacing.

 

“And do sit down, you’re making me mental.”

 

I sat down.  _Fuck.  Here goes_.  “Mel, you know I had to sign a lot of papers when I took this job, and some of the stuff was about Obliviation.  I’ve found out a little more since then.  When school ends, I’m going to have to make a choice.  Go back to Virginia and forget everything that’s happened here this year, or stay here and never go back at all.”

 

“I don’t think you read the document correctly, Hank.  I don’t think that’s the case.”

 

“I think it is.  I shouldn’t have told you about Ted’s wedding and I shouldn’t have told Mom about you, and…”

 

“Wait.  So you wrote you Mum about me?  What did you say?”

 

“That you’re wonderful and beautiful and great in bed.  No, I said that I’d met someone and kind of described you.  That doesn’t matter now, because I’m thinking that they’ll have to Obliviate my whole family now.  I’ve probably fucked everything up.”

 

_I had fucked everything up, just like usual.  I knew this whole life at Hogwarts and Melody was too good to be true.  I figured I’d wake up back in a Virginia hospital with some bullshit story about a car wreck and a coma.  Shit, with my luck I’d still be with Janine.  That would be fun at the wedding.  ‘Hello Mrs. Woolwine, how are you?  Oh I’m fine now, I’ve been unconscious for about a year.  I miss anything?’  I hadn’t been with her for that long but I just had the feeling that everything was right this time with Melody.  I could really be myself.  I didn’t have to pretend to be some upwardly-mobile go-getter dork like I did with Janine.  Plus, here at Hogwarts I really was a Professor.  But then there was my family, never seeing them again for Christmas or Thanksgiving, not being there for Ted’s wedding, not watching my niece and nephew grow up…_

 

A pillow hit me in the chest, and Melody did not look happy at all.  “Wake up!  How long have you known this?”

 

 _Damn_.  “I had a feeling, but it didn’t really sink in until I did that test.”  I told her about what the one wizard had said about the Obliviation agreements still being valid, that I didn’t think being 1.3% wizard could get me out of anything.

 

She got up off of the bed and walked towards me, stopping inches in front of me and looking me directly in the eyes.  “You’re a complete bastard, you know that.  If I didn’t love you I would kill you.  Don’t push me, I still might.”  She pulled out her wand and held it up to my face.  “Unlike you, I can actually use this thing.”  She lowered the wand and cocked her head.  “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

 

 _Huh_?  “Your question?”

 

“Hank Boyd, are you breaking up with me?”

 

“No.  I don’t want to.  I just thought you should know what could happen.  And if you didn’t want to…”  I looked down at my shoes.

 

Melody’s hand gently pulled my face back towards hers.  “We’ll figure something out.  I’m not going to give up on the only man I’ve ever been with who doesn’t care that I can’t cook, doesn’t want me to be some stick thin model looking thing and can put up with my allegedly cold feet.  I’ll talk to Hermione or Kingsley if I have to.  You’re not getting off that easy.”

 

“Plus I really annoy your Mom.”

 

“Definite point in your favor.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Later that night I found myself in Neville’s office.  The moment he saw my face he brought out the firewhiskey.  We had gone through the normal school type things for about a half hour when he brought up Melody and the Obliviation issue.

 

“Is it that obvious, Neville?”

 

“I can tell that something is bothering you.  You acted like you were actually interested in the new potions storage room.  I think I know you better than that.”

 

“Well, pour me another and I’ll fill you in.”

 

I gave him the details, as well as some commentary about what I was feeling.  I caught him glance over his shoulder towards the portrait of Dumbledore when I had mentioned being a 1.3% wizard.  Something was up, but the combination of firewhiskey and being emotionally drained kept me from asking.  After a while I was tired of answering questions, so I decided to ask one of my own.

 

“So, how are things with Hannah?”

 

Neville hemmed and hawed for a bit, but eventually he looked at me.  “Very good, actually.  She came to Easter at Gran’s.  Gran loved her.  I think she and Gran spent most of the time talking, I kind of felt left out.”

 

“Trust me, Neville, that’s a good thing.  My mother hated my ex-girlfriend, and I kind of guessed it but I didn’t really know until we broke up.  All those times that were awkward make sense now.  Hannah’s nice.  You two seem like a good fit.”

 

“I dunno why she’s interested in a guy like me.”

 

“Neville, are you kidding me?  You’re a good guy.  You treat people fairly.  Hell, you’ve treated me great when I’m a damn don’t-know-anything Muggle.  I’ve never once heard you talk about the Battle of Hogwarts unless you were forced to.  You’re the kind of guy every brother wants his sister to end up with.”

 

“Thanks, Hank, I appreciate that, but what if…”

 

“What if you don’t become Headmaster?  So what?  Teach Herbology for the rest of your life.  Write a new textbook.  Do whatever you want.  If Hannah wants to be with you, she’ll be with you, it won’t matter.  After what Melody told me earlier, I think you don’t need to worry about that.”

 

Neville looked at me and I got the feeling from his expression that there was something else bothering him, but he just didn’t want to talk about it at the moment.  Well, I wasn’t going to drag it out of him.  He would tell me if he wanted to.  I left Neville’s office feeling better about my situation.  Everyone said that Hermione Weasley was the brightest witch of her age, and if you’ve got somebody like that in your corner, things can’t all be bad.  The only thing that ruined my mood was Peeves the damn poltergeist.  He followed me around singing some song about me and Melody, working Hufflepuff in there somehow.  He’s talented with a line, but I wished I could stuff him in a box.

 

 

-ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo-

 

 

It was early in the morning and Percy Weasley was putting the finishing touches on finalizing his schedule for the day.  All of the appointments were color-coded and timed out precisely.  His office was immaculate, filing cabinets lined one entire wall and several framed awards and citations were hung behind his large, polished wood desk.  A few wizarding portraits looked down from the wall to the right of his desk, and in one a small knight was chasing a dragon.  He watched the knight for a few moments, but couldn’t conceal his irritation when an unscheduled knock interrupted his few moments of free time before the day officially began.

 

“Do you have a moment, Percy?”  His sister-in-law stood in the doorway, looking anxious.

 

“For you, of course.  Please come in, Hermione.”

 

She sat down hurriedly.  “Percy, I know you drew up Professor Boyd’s contracts.  I was…”

 

“Worried about the Obliviation clause?”  He smiled as she looked shocked.  “I had some, shall we say, guidance on the particular language for that section.”

 

“What can we do, Percy?  I don’t want to see Hank Obliviated.  It’s not fair.”

 

“I wouldn’t worry about that.  I don’t think it will happen.”

 

“Percy, did you know about the test?”

 

Percy sat back in his chair for a moment and looked over to an empty portrait frame.  “Yes, I did.  I also had some counsel that Professor Boyd might provide some unexpected surprises.”

 

“He’s only 98.7% Muggle, Percy.  I know how you are with contracts.  Is there something in the contract…?”

 

“That nullifies the contract if he is not a complete Muggle?”  Percy leaned forward and put his hands on the desk.  “Yes, there is.  The contract states that if Professor Boyd is a 100% Muggle he will have to make a choice.  Since he is not, well, then the clause is null and void.  We cannot Obliviate wizards, regardless of their ability, just because they signed an agreement.”

 

Hermione couldn’t contain herself, she got up out of the chair and hugged Percy, which was quite awkward for him as he was still seated and because things like that didn’t happen to him very often.  He patted Hermione on the arm a few times and then gently eased her off.

 

“So how do we tell him, Percy?”

 

“That’s what I was scheduling when you interrupted me.  It looks like the earliest we will be able to have the meeting will be on Friday.  Kingsley is aware of the situation, and that’s the soonest he could meet.  Don’t say anything, though, because we want the element of surprise on our side.  The Anti-Muggle element thinks this meeting will determine Hank’s status for the end of the year in their favour, and we don’t want to give them any extra time.”

 

After Hermione left Percy found himself feeling very pleased with his skills.  He looked over to a portrait that was now no longer empty.

 

“I think things are working out as you had anticipated, Headmaster.”

 

Albus Dumbledore looked over his half-moon spectacles.  “Anticipated, yes, but I wasn’t sure.”

 

 

-ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo-

 

 

Friday came eventually, a welcome end to the week, as I’d spend the whole time not in class trying to figure a way out of my situation.  I’d owled Hermione but only got back a quick answer saying that she was unbelievably busy but she’d see what she could do.  I guess I hadn’t been my normal self as I’d been visited by Nonky and two other house elves, a series of Hufflepuffs led by Lavinia Ryder and surprisingly, Poesy Phillips.  _Was I that transparent?_   I was tired of all the inquiries, so I’d locked my door and sat down with the first book I could lay my hands on.  _A History of Magic_?  Why not pour salt in the wound?

 

The knock on my door was just about the last straw, and I know I threw it open a little more forcefully than I should have.  Carrick Frye stood there, looking quite downbeat.  “Mr. Frye, what can I do for you?  Is this absolutely necessary?”  I took another look at him and realized he was not his normal, smart-ass self.  “Are you ok?”

 

The young Gryffindor looked at me and shrugged.  “I’m fine, sir.  You’re wanted in the Headmaster’s office.”

 

I don’t think he could have said it with less emotion.  “Carrick, what’s wrong?”  He didn’t respond; instead he kept looking at the floor.  “Carrick?  I can tell something’s bothering you.”

 

“Ruby broke up with me.  Said all I talked about was Quidditch ‘n I didn’t pay her any attention.”

 

 _Oh boy, young love._   “Is that true?”

 

“Sort of, I guess.”

 

“Well, what are you going to do about it?”

 

His head snapped up.  “Do about it?  Professor Mug, er…”

 

“I don’t mind, really.  Yes, what are you going to do about it?  Do you still want to go out with her?”

 

“Yeah, definitely.”  His head emphatically nodded positively.

 

“Then tell her.  Tell her you’ve been an idiot.  Trust me; all of us men are idiots when it comes to women.  It’s the men who admit to it that end up with happy women.”  _Damn, I should take my own advice.  Where the hell did that come from?_

 

He brightened considerably at that.  “Thanks, Professor Muggle!  Oh, you need to go to the Headmaster’s office!  Gotta go!”  With that he ran down the hall, ostensibly to go find Ruby and confess that he was a man and therefore an idiot.

 

I arrived at Neville’s office to find a crowd, and not just any crowd.  Kingsley Shacklebolt, Percy Weasley and several other witches and wizards were in attendance, including some of those who had not impressed me very much in my two meetings with them.  _Fuck_.

 

Kingsley stepped forward.  “Thank you for your prompt attendance at this meeting, Professor Boyd.  Now if we can all have a seat we can attend to business.”  He took out his wand and conjured up a table fit for a Fortune 500 board room, then motioned for me to sit at the end.  He took a seat at the opposite end, and the witches and wizards followed suit.  Neville was the only person to sit at my end.  “This meeting will now draw to order.  The purpose of this meeting is to discuss contract and agreement status, and to determine if a new instructor will be required to teach Muggle Studies next year.  Mr. Weasley, if you will.”

 

Percy began reading some parchment in legalese and I couldn’t concentrate.  _Holy shit, this was happening now.  Now I’d find out what would happen, I hadn’t had time to contact Hermione, Melody hadn’t had any time to figure anything out, I had no clue what to do and it was all going to come crashing down around my ears.  I’d have to teach the rest of this year knowing that I’d never remember any of it.  The only thing that could possibly give me any insight after I’d been Obliviated was the journal I’d kept the whole year.  I’d never told anyone about it so they wouldn’t know, but if I was Obliviated I’d read it later and think I was crazy.  And Melody, what was I going to tell her?_

 

I found Neville tapping me on the shoulder.  “Hank, they’ve asked you a question.”

 

I looked up.  “I’m sorry, can you repeat the question?”

 

Percy smiled at me, and I noticed that besides Kingsley all the other witches and wizards did not look happy.  “Professor Boyd, do you agree with the M.A.L.T. test results that you are 98.7% Muggle and 1.3% wizard?”

 

“Um, yeah, I do _.”  What the fuck did that have to do with anything?  I’d signed the Obliviation Clauses.  I’m doomed.  I just hoped they made me have a coma in a good way, like crashing at high speeds on the Autobahn or something similar._

 

Kingsley smiled at me, and then looked at the unsmiling witches and wizards.  “Do you agree that the language in the contract is clear?  And do you agree with the M.A.L.T. test results?”  Slowly and unhappily they nodded.  Kingsley looked to Percy.

 

Percy stood up with the contract in his hand.  “Then the Obliviation clauses for the Hogwarts contract of Professor Henry Aaron MacDonald Boyd are null and void.”  He leaned down, took out a quill and made several lines on a parchment.  Kingsley took a quill and made some movements and then Percy brought the parchment to me.  “Please sign here, then initial here, and sign here, please.”

 

I looked at Neville, and he nodded.  I signed and initialed unsteadily with the quill until Percy looked happy, then watched him return to his seat.

 

Kingsley looked at me, then towards the other assembled parties.  “Now that we’ve cleared up that matter, the only other item on the agenda is to inquire about possible hiring of a Muggle Studies instructor to replace Professor Boyd.  Since replacement is no longer absolutely necessary, Professor Boyd and Headmaster Longbottom can discuss that on their own terms.  We have no further business.  This meeting is adjourned.”  He looked to me.  “Professor Boyd, I understand that you will want to inform others of this decision.  Please wait until we have made the official announcement in _The Prophet_ tomorrow.”

 

I was still in a daze as I shook Percy’s hand on the way out, as well as Kingsley’s, but I don’t think I actually said a word.  When they left I sat down in one of Neville’s chairs and watched the boardroom table disappear, leaving only me and Neville in the Headmaster’s office.  Neville was beaming in that goofy way of his, and he motioned me over to the portrait of Albus Dumbledore.

 

“As I told you before, Hank, we all end up where we’re supposed to be.”  The former Headmaster was smiling, and good grief, his eyes really were twinkling.

 

“Sir, are your eyes sparkling or something?”

 

He chuckled.  “Yes, bit of artistic license, I believe.  The question for you, my boy, is where do you want to be?”

 

“Neville, can you explain what the hell just happened?”  I looked over at Neville, who was digging something out of his desk.

 

“Yes, I can, Hank.  The Wizangamot voted against the Muggle Separation Act, that’s what Percy went over at the beginning of the meeting.  They specifically voted against the Obliviation section of the Act, but since you signed your contract prior to the vote it was determined that your contract was still legally binding.  The contract said you would be Obliviated because you were a Muggle.  Percy put in the language that a Muggle has no magical blood whatsoever.  As you like to say, you’re a 1.3% wizard, making the Obiliviation clause null and void.  You now have the same rights as any other witch or wizard.”  He looked over at Albus.  “You knew this would happen, didn’t you, Albus?”

 

“I agreed with Telephus, I had a feeling.”  Dumbledore removed his spectacles and looked at me.  “I trust you have enjoyed your classes, among other things?”

 

“Very much so, sir.”  _Yeah, now that’s an understatement._

 

“Then I think you will find your upcoming conversation with Neville very enjoyable.  Please excuse me, the results of the meeting here are greatly anticipated.  I do hope I won’t spend the rest of the night giving out news.”  With that he left his painting, leaving me standing in shock in front of an empty portrait.

 

I looked over at Neville, “Our next conversation?”

 

He handed me a parchment.  “It’s your contract for teaching Muggle Studies again next year.  You don’t have to answer me yet, but this means that you don’t have to decide to live in the Wizarding world or the Muggle world, you can do both.”

 

I had no hesitation and grabbed a quill off of the desk.  “Where do I sign?”


	16. Announcements and Exams

**Chapter 16:  Announcements and Exams**

 

Like any good secret everybody knew almost immediately that I was no longer bound by the Obliviation Clause, something I attributed the large number of Dumbledore portraits.  The scene outside my window looked like a freaking owl convention, and when I opened the window they seemed to cover my room.  By now I was used to Calliope, so I was unaccustomed to normal owl behavior as I suffered several nips and scratches, but eventually I sat at my desk with a pile of letters.  All of my Wizarding friends had sent notes; Hermione and Ron, Ginny and Harry, Arthur and Molly, Hannah, Angelina and of course, Melody.  I sent back notes saying “I can neither confirm nor deny any rumors” to all of them except Melody.  On her note I wrote “Don’t worry.”  Then after thinking about it further I sent Calliope off with a note for her that read “You need to get a Muggle passport.”

 

I had settled into my desk in a state of sheer relief and semi-exhaustion when George opened the door without knocking.

 

“Nice, George.  What if I was doing something private?”

 

“Ewww.  Don’t want to think about that.  But I did hear about something else that calls for a drink!”  He brandished two full bottles of firewhiskey.  “It’s Friday night, Hank.  No classes tomorrow.  Time to celebrate!”

 

 _Why the hell not?  I deserved it._   “Just hand me one of those bottles, George.  I’m making the first toast.”  Newly acquired bottle in hand I pulled the cork and raised it towards him.  “To Percy Weasley!”

 

“What?  What did that prat do now?”

 

“Shut up and toast your brother, George.  Because of him and Dumbledore I’ll remember all of your bad jokes.”

 

He raised his bottle.  “They’re not bad.  Are they?”

 

“Most of the time.”

 

I think we toasted Dumbledore several times, Kingsley, James Potter, Hogwarts and Minerva McGonagall, and if I’m not mistaken I think we toasted the M.A.L.T.  The bottles were very low as the last toast of the night was upon us.  I raised a wobbling bottle in the air “To Dent-Head MacDonald!”

 

“T’ Dent-Head!”  George toasted my ancestor, finished the bottle and slid off of his chair.

 

I pointed and laughed.  “You fell on your ass!”

 

“Bum!”  George laughed, “You damn Americans, ass.  I fell on my arse!”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Saturday morning did not start well, as I wished I had one of Melody’s hangover potions.  Luckily Nonky arrived with very strong coffee and a potion that he swore would make things better.  I downed that potion in a single go and sat on my bed sipping coffee when _The Prophet_ arrived.  Knowing what was probably in the paper you would’ve thought I would have opened it immediately, but I let it sit there for a while until the delivery owl got tired of waiting for an owl treat and left in what must be the avian version of a huff.

 

I was definitely not going to have a good day.  I hadn’t felt like this since college when I got into a drinking contest with a friend and that definitely didn’t end well, so I had a feeling the day was going to be difficult.  That damned George.  I was going to have to bust him on something to get even.  I opened _The Prophet_ and I was happy to see that I wasn’t the main story, something about Aurors was, but I was on the bottom half of the front page.

 

**PROFESSOR MUGGLE ISN’T!**

**HOGWARTS MUGGLE PROFESSOR IS PART WIZARD!**

 

Kingsley and Percy were quoted in the article that detailed my testimony and M.A.L.T. test, ensuring everyone that I was a wizard.  Even if I was only a very marginal wizard at best, and hovering around squib, the Obliviation Clauses were now unenforceable.  One witch was quoted saying something about whether or not I would ever be accustomed to the Wizarding world, but to be honest I didn’t care.  I didn’t have to choose.  Nothing could put me in a bad mood, even if I did feel awful.

 

I was still in a semi-coherent state when there was a knock at the door.  I figured it was Melody, coming over to celebrate, so I didn’t remember to put on my robe.  That’s how I greeted Harry Potter, just wearing boxer shorts.

 

“Looks like you were expecting someone else.”  He raised his eyebrows at me over his glasses.

 

“Yeah, but it was a long night.  Come on in, Harry.”  I put on my robe and sat in my big green chair.  “What brings you here this early?  And how are Ginny and James?”

 

He sat at my desk but didn’t look very comfortable.  “They’re fine, Hank.  I’m here to discuss your safety.”

 

 _Oh hell, not this again._   “Hey, I’m a wizard, well only technically, but still, I’m a wizard.  Why are they still after me?”

 

“They don’t believe the Ministry.  They still think you’re all Muggle and that this story is just to get them off of your trail.  That’s what our sources say, anyway.”  He paused for a moment.  “We also need to discuss security for your trip back to Virginia.”

 

 _Had I told Harry about that?  I didn’t remember telling him; maybe Melody had said something to Ginny._ He must have noticed my puzzled expression.

 

“You didn’t say anything; I’m sorry, Hank, but we read your letters.  Had to make sure that if you were Obliviated that we could contain the exposure of the Wizarding world.  If it’s any consolation your Mum sounds very nice.  Sorry.”

 

Normally I would be angry, but I understood Harry’s position, and I wasn’t going to be Obliviated anyway.  “Security reasons, I get that.  Glad I didn’t say anything too embarrassing.  So what about security?”

 

“We think the WLF may try to do something when you’re in Virginia.  We’d like to send a very small security detail with you, just in case.  Do you think you could convince your family to accept two more ‘guests’ from Britain?”

 

 _My mom wouldn’t care; she’d love to meet my ‘friends’ from my travels_.  “I’m sure she wouldn’t, Harry.  Besides, we’ll be staying at my house, and it’s a lot smaller than Mom and Dad’s.  It should be easier for you to protect.  Hopefully though, they won’t try anything since it’s in Virginia.”

 

“I appreciate it, Hank.  I’m not sure who they’ll send, but I’ll try to make sure it’s somebody that can blend in fairly well.”  That part of the conversation over, he looked much more pleased.  “Now I have another job; Ginny wants you and Melody to come over tonight for a small celebration dinner.”

 

 _Food.  Um, that might be possible by then._   “Sounds good, Harry.  Tell Ginny I’d love to come.  I’ll stop by Melody’s and tell her.”

 

“Don’t bother.  She and Ginny have been wearing out owls all morning, so it’s all planned out.”  He got up and shook my hand.  “Glad things have worked out so far.”

 

I shook his hand and tried to put how grateful I was to him for everything in the handshake.  “Me too, Harry.  Me too.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

I couldn’t wait until the Grimmauld Place dinner to see Melody, so I took a shower and tried to become a human again.  That damned George Weasley; eventually I would learn to stop drinking with him.  I threw on a light sweater over a shirt and grabbed the first pair of jeans that I cold find, not surprised when it was the pair with the holes.  I should’ve thrown those out ages ago, but they were just so comfortable.  Oh well, Mel wouldn’t care.  I took the Floo and was met by Churchill, completely not surprised that someone had just appeared out of the fireplace.  Wizarding cats can out not-care Muggle cats any day of the week.

 

“Mel?  Mel, you home?”

 

I walked into the kitchen and found Melody sitting at the table, drinking tea with her mother.  Lane Bramble was not as dressed up as last time, but it was one of those casual outfits that women wear that are completely not casual; instead they are totally planned and studied to look casual.  Melody did not look ready to hex her mother into oblivion, so something must have happened.  I walked over and shook Lane’s hand politely, then kissed Mel on the cheek, but stayed standing.

 

“I hope I haven’t interrupted anything.  I can leave.”

 

Melody looked at me with a restrained smile, “No, Hank, please sit down.”

 

She waved her wand and another teacup arrived at the table.  After adding  sugar and milk, she handed me the tea which was stirring itself.  I noticed Lane look over at Melody, but she didn’t say anything.  I had no idea what was going on, so I just drank my tea and kept quiet.  I didn’t want a repeat of last time.

 

“Mum and I were just talking about the article in _The_ _Prophet_ , Hank.”  Melody watched her mother sip her tea.  “And I’ve invited her over to the Potters’ tonight.”

 

_Oh boy, Grimmauld Place would definitely be interesting._

 

“Gwennie, I do hope I won’t be intruding on a private event.”

 

_I couldn’t tell if Lane actually meant it or not.  I definitely couldn’t read her; some people are easy to read, like Neville.  Lane?  No way in hell._

 

“It’ll be fine, Mum.  You can just wear what you have on, it’s very casual.”

 

Lane got up from the table.  “Please tell the Potters I will attend if I’m not imposing.  I will see you there.”  She looked to me.  “Mr. Boyd, very nice to see you again.”

 

“Hank, Mum.  Hank.”  Melody looked irritated but I ignored it.

 

“Very good to see you too, ma’am.”

 

With that Lane walked out of the kitchen and the sounds of the Floo soon were heard.  I looked over at Melody.  “What happened, did she surprise you again?”

 

Now the smile that she had been suppressing truly came out.  “Oh no, I invited her over.”

 

 _What the hell?_   “I figured the next time you two ended up in the same room there’d be explosions.”

 

“Ginny and I have a few tricks up our robes.”  With that she walked over and sat in my lap.  “You’ll see.”

 

“Witches are scary.”

 

She brought her face very close to mine.  “Oh, you mostly-Muggle, you have no idea.”

 

One quick change of clothes and a few hours later Melody and I stood at the front of Grimmauld Place, waiting for someone to answer the door.  I had explained to Melody that I was nervous about being here with her Mother attending and all, but she didn’t say much.  She just gave me some pats on the shoulder as if she was comforting someone who was upset about a stubbed toe.  _Great._   No hints from her.

 

Ron Weasley opened the door, and after welcoming comments we walked in; this was not the small, intimate event that I had anticipated.  The Arthur Weasleys, Ron Weasleys, George Weasleys and Percy Weasley were in attendance, along with Neville and Hannah.  Kingsley Shacklebolt stood in the corner talking to a witch that looked about Molly and Arthur’s age, and the woman was holding a small boy of about five or six or so that was struggling mightily to escape her arms.  The witch in bright pink robes from the hospital press conference was seated in front of the fireplace talking brightly to Cho Chang and Lavender Brown.  Lane Bramble was talking to Ginny and Harry, looking into the small sleeping bundle in Ginny’s arms that had to be James.  I had expected maybe six people, but it was more like twenty.

 

When everyone realized that we had arrived there was a flurry of conversation, hugs and handshakes.  Before the excitement had completely died down Neville took his wand from his pocket and held it to his throat.

 

“If I could have everyone’s attention, I have two announcements!”  Some were surprised, as they had never heard Neville speak like that, but George and I looked at each other; we’d heard that tone before at Hogwarts.  After putting his wand away, Neville continued normally.  “I have two announcements.  I thought the concerned parties wouldn’t mind if I broke the news here.  First, I have accepted George Weasley’s resignation from Hogwarts.”

 

George walked up to the front of the room where Neville stood.

 

“Before you lot start crying, I think it would be for the best.  After all, I’ve found some new talent and have a lot of new ideas.”  After hearing the last part of George’s statement Neville didn’t look too pleased.  George looked over at Molly.  “Sorry, Mum, but you know I couldn’t stay at Hogwarts.  Too many rules.”  He walked back over to Angelina, who was obviously happy that he wouldn’t be staying at Hogwarts any longer.

_Well, if George actually did stay at Hogwarts overnight.  Come to think of it, I rarely saw him in the evenings…_

 

“And now for my second announcement.”  Neville now had everyone’s attention.  “I have accepted Professor Boyd’s contract to teach at Hogwarts next year, this time with no Obliviation clause.  Glad to have you back, Hank.”

 

I didn’t have time to really react as Melody threw her arms around me and gave me a kiss, much to the delight of a hooting George.  When she came back down off of her tiptoes she looked up at me in complete shock.  “You didn’t tell me that!”

 

“I may only be a 1.3% wizard, but I have a few tricks up my sleeve, too.”  I felt a hand on my arm and saw Arthur handing me a glass of firewhiskey.

 

“I believe this calls for a toast.”  He looked at my face and noticed that I was making an expression of horror at the firewhiskey.  “Something wrong?”

 

“Um, George and I stayed up lasting night making toasts, and I don’t think firewhiskey is a good idea right now.  Ginger ale or something similar would probably be better.”

 

Melody looked at me questioningly.  “Last night?”

 

“Yeah, George and I were toasting Percy and things…”

 

“Percy?”  Ron looked at me and then his brothers.

 

“Yeah, Ron, if it wasn’t for Percy’s language on the contract I wouldn’t remember any of you in a few weeks.”

 

This earned Percy some embarrassing hugs and kisses from Melody and Molly.  He shook his head and leaned back against the wall.  _Good for you, Percy.  You deserve it.  Your family may give you a hard time but you’re all right in my book._

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Dinner was wonderful.  I ended up sitting across the table from the little boy who I’d seen struggling to get out of the witch’s arms when I walked in.  I looked over at him and tried to catch him between bites, which wasn’t easy.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

He had just taken a big bite of mashed potatoes when I had asked, so of course he tried to answer with his mouth full.  The resulting potato mess was cleaned up by the woman sitting at his side, the older witch.

 

“His name is Teddy.  I’m his Grandmother Andromeda.”

 

The little boy looked at me with big eyes and then smiled as I watched his hair turn from brown to a bright purple.

 

“Whoa!”  I think I dropped my fork when it happened.

 

He giggled and then turned his hair into a succession of reds, blues, greens and finally hot pink.  After being gently scolded by his Grandmother, Teddy finished his potatoes and then left the table.

 

We had retired to the living room after dinner when Teddy came up and stood right in front of me.

 

“Can you do magic?”

 

“Um, not really.  I’ll show you what I can do.  Wanna see?”

 

“Yeah!”

 

 _Boy, was he going to be disappointed._   I took out my wand and noticed Melody smiling at me on the sofa where she sat with her mother and Andromeda.  “Ok, here goes.”  I waved my wand around, not really paying any attention; instead I watched Teddy’s face.  I knew this was going to be one of those ‘is that it?’ kind of things for him.

 

“Oi!  Put that out!”

 

I turned to see Ron’s shoe on fire.  Apparently not only great anger could make me set stuff on fire, happiness could as well.  “Oh shit, oh crap, sorry, kids here, um, sorry Ron I didn’t mean to…”

 

Molly used her wand to put out Ron’s shoe.  “Don’t worry, dear.  We know you can’t really control you magic.  Your language, though, could use some work.”  She looked over to Melody.

 

Melody raised her hands in the air “I’m trying, Molly.  I’m trying.”

 

 _Great_.  “Well, Teddy, I guess the only thing I’m good at is setting Ron’s shoe and Christmas presents on fire.”

 

This time a genuine look of horror crossed Teddy’s face and he ran to Harry.  “Don’t let him come over on Christmas, Harry.”

 

I smiled at Teddy.  “I’ll keep my wand at home on Christmas.  Don’t worry, I won’t be after your Christmas presents.”

 

This seemed to be acceptable, as I found him right next to me after that.  I was the first Muggle (or mostly Muggle) that he’d met and he had a ton of questions.  He couldn’t care less about some things, but was fascinated that I had never used the Floo, a wand, seen a Quidditch match before I started teaching at Hogwarts.

 

“Well, Teddy, before I moved to Britain I had to do a lot of things by myself, as we don’t have house elves, I had to drive my car…”

 

“Like Arthur’s car?”

 

Upon hearing this Arthur slid down in his chair.  There was no way in hell I was even going to look in Molly’s direction.  “Not really, our cars are different.  They don’t fly.”

 

“Boring.  I’m gonna go find some toys now.  Bye.”  With that he was up and out of the room before I could say anything.

 

_Well shit.  Dissed by a little kid._

 

Later that evening I found myself holding James while Ginny went upstairs to clean herself; there’s nothing like spit up, especially when it gets in the hair.  He was kind of fussy so I walked him around the house a bit, talking in a low voice and describing pictures and various things to him, but always walking or swaying.  Actually I had no idea what a lot of the things were so I made stuff up.

 

“This is a relic from when the Vikings attacked Wisconsin.  Hardly any were left alive, and they used old floppy discs as weapons.”

 

It only worked for a while, so I began singing old Beatles songs to him in a low voice, which seemed to do the trick.

 

When Ginny came back looking and smelling much nicer she was surprised that he was almost asleep.  “What did you do?  Tell me, he’s driving us mental.”

 

“Motion and sound.  Just walking around with him and talking, and then a bit of singing.  When my niece was little and very cranky my brother-in-law used to put her in the car and just drive around for a while with the radio on, the motion of the car and the music would put her to sleep.”

 

“Brilliant.”

 

I gently gave her back the almost sleeping James and joined the others; more specifically, what was left of the others.  Andromeda was on the sofa with a sleeping Teddy’s head on her lap, Harry sat in a chair nearby.  Ron and Hermione were in the corner and it didn’t look like a pleasant conversation, while Melody sat on another sofa, patting the cushion beside her.  I sat down and leaned into the cushion, putting my arm around her.

 

“So, did your plan work?”

 

“Ask Andromeda.”

 

I looked over at the very polite, but still slightly imposing witch.  “Were you in on this whatever it was?”

 

“I believe I am now.” She looked at Harry.  “Not very polite to involve your godson that way, you know.”

 

I couldn’t tell if she was joking or not from that tone.  Ginny saved Harry, though, as she had picked that point in the conversation to come in sans-son.  “Don’t blame Harry, I asked him to invite you.  It’s been too long since you and Teddy visited.  Why not come over tonight?”  She looked over at Melody, who looked away and began to whistle.

 

 _Nice, Melody.  Just about as subtle as George._   “So did what work?  What was the plan?”

 

Ginny sat on Harry’s lap.  “To have Lane talk to Andromeda, and to have her see you with Teddy and James.”

 

 _Oh boy._   Now Ginny and Melody began talking fast, interrupting each other and finishing sentences for the other one.  After about two minutes Harry cut them off.

 

“Let me summarize, Hank.  The schemers wanted Lane to talk to Andromeda, because Tonks, er Nymphadora, Andromeda’s daughter, married a man who was not very popular among witches and wizards.”

 

“Not very popular?  Harry, you’ve very kind.”  Andromeda looked over to me.  “My daughter married Remus Lupin, a werewolf.  He was a very nice man, and I’ve never seen her happier than when they were together.  When Teddy was born things were so different, as it was in the middle of the war.  But even then I knew that no matter what others thought that Dora loved him more than anything except Teddy.  I believe your young lady and Mrs. Potter wanted her to hear that story and hopefully learn a lesson or two, am I right ladies?”  She looked over at Ginny and Melody, who sheepishly nodded.  “Did you notice that if I wasn’t enough, they pulled out the big spells?  Minister of Magic?  That might have been overkill, girls.”

 

Ron walked in and sat in an empty chair while Hermione walked out of the room and headed upstairs.  “Think you might have an overnight guest, sis.”

 

“What did you do, Ron?”

 

He sighed.  “I told her about my next assignment.  I’m going to Virginia with Hank and Melody.”

 

Ginny shrugged.  “So?”

 

He put his head back on the chair and looked at the ceiling.  “My partner is Lavender Brown.”

 

Harry laughed, but Ginny elbowed him and got up quickly.  She looked at her brother sympathetically.  “I’m sorry, Ron.  I’m going to see Hermione.”

 

I was confused.  I didn’t get it.  I was more than happy to have her along, as she’d saved my ass before.  I guessed that Hermione wasn’t happy because she couldn’t go, and that Ron’s partner was a woman.  “Is it because Hermione can’t go?”

 

Melody shook her head.  “No, it’s because Lavender is Ron’s ex-girlfriend.”

 

 _Oh.  That explains it._   “Well, he’s married and they’ll be staying at my house.  Trust me, nothing will happen.”

 

“Hermione knows that too, Hank.”  Melody shook her head. “But that doesn’t really change the fact that it’s Lavender.”

 

“Maybe I’ll take her as my date?”

 

“Say that again and I’ll hex your naughty bits off.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

The first Saturday of June found Melody sitting in my big green chair acting like one of my students; she was cramming.  The trip to Virginia had her worried, as she was sure she’d accidentally say something that would let everyone know she was a witch.  She had several books spread around her and had been making notes, but I assured her that nobody would ask her about dishwashers.  I told her that she’d be fine, but she wasn’t taking any chances, so she had stopped by in the morning at my request for some ‘tutoring.’  I couldn’t help but smile, as she had no idea what I had planned.  I only hoped it would go well.

 

We were interrupted several times by students asking to browse my Muggle Library; I’d brought a lot of my books with me, as I wasn’t sure exactly what I’d need to teach.  I hadn’t been surprised by the students who had knocked on my door, as they were the most studious in my classes, with the exception of Poesy Phillips.  I’d always thought that she was more interested in pulling pranks, but I guessed there was a reason she was in Ravenclaw after all.  Surprisingly she’d borrowed some of my old literature textbooks, as she knew that’s what I used to teach and must have thought that there’d be Muggle Literature on the final.  I had more up my sleeve than asking about Hester Prynne.

 

Of course, I also had more up my sleeve than just having Melody come over that specific day to cram for the wedding trip; I’d gone into London to reacquaint myself with my Muggleness early in May, accompanied by Harry.  I’d owled him earlier, and luckily he had the day off, so we’d walked around and eventually we found ourselves in my home away from home:  a record shop.  I was happy that I’d exchanged my Galleons earlier in Gringott’s for Muggle money, because I was ready to spend.  It was like a dream come true, I was in a record store with almost unlimited cash, as the exchange rate was _very_ favorable.  After all, I didn’t really have any expenses and I was dying for music.  It was the one thing that I had truly missed living at Hogwarts, because for some reason (lack of plugs notwithstanding) none of my musical devices worked in the castle.  I was out of touch with what had been released recently, so I stood at the album charts poster trying to catch up on lost time.  Out of the corner of my eye I caught another poster and had one of my better ideas.  I walked out of the shop with about twenty CDs and a portable CD player, a bag full of batteries and an extremely elevated mood.  Finding used copies of CDs that I’ve always wanted by Japan, replacement versions for my missing Jesus and The Mary Chain discs and a CD from a new band called Bloc Party will do that for a music geek.

 

“Will anyone ask me about how DVBs work when I’m in Virginia?”  Melody was looking at me with a very worried look.

 

I didn’t help matters by laughing.  “DVDs?  I doubt anyone will ask you how they work, because I don’t know if anyone except scientists or engineers know how they really function.  We just put then in and push buttons.  I have no idea how it actually works, something with lasers, I think.”

 

_Looking at her wearing my white button-down from months ago I was hoping that I had accurately predicted that she would enjoy herself that night, and I was having a hard time trying to wait to spring the surprise.  I’m awful at waiting to surprise people; I want to give presents right away after I buy them, one of the reasons that I usually wait until the last minute to buy things.  I know what I want to give as a present, but the longer I have it in my possession the likelier that I’ll give it early.  I should wait until later this afternoon, but…oh fuck it._

 

“Melody, have you ever been to a concert?”

 

She put down her book and stretched her legs out in front of her.  “You mean like the Weird Sisters?  Yeah, I’ve seen them a couple of times.  Why?”

 

“How many people were at the concert?”

 

“I dunno, a thousand or so.  Why?”  She looked at me and had a look on her face that told me she knew I was up to something.

 

“How would you like to go to a Muggle concert?”  _Please say yes or else I had just blown a bunch of money and wouldn’t be able to see them after all these years…_

 

Melody looked at me as if I was a little boy asking if I could have a fifth cookie before breakfast.  “You’ve been planning this for a while, haven’t you?”

 

 _Damn.  She already knew me well enough that I couldn’t pull anything over on her._   “Well, yes.  And Ginny and Harry are joining us.  Its Ginny’s first time going out without James, so its kind of a big deal.  Molly and Arthur are watching James, so if you say no it’s going to mess up a lot of plans.”

 

“Oh all right, then.  I just have a couple of questions.”

 

 _Great_.  “Ok, shoot.”

 

“Why does your shirt want to call London and where is this concert?”

 

 _Call London?  Oh, my t-shirt._   “It’s an album by a British punk band called the Clash.  The album is _London Calling_ and it’s one of my favorites.  The concert is in Glasgow at a giant soccer stadium.  There will be a lot more than five hundred people there, that’s for sure.”  She looked at me somewhat worriedly.  “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”

 

“The last time you went out on a date to go to Muggle land you were attacked by the WLF.”

 

 _Ah, that’s it.  She’s worried about more than not fitting in_.  “Mel, I will not only have an Auror with me I’ll have Harry freaking Potter.  We’ll be fine.”  _I hoped_.

 

“What’s punk?

 

Her face looked like what I figured mine must have looked like the first time someone explained Quidditch.  “That’s a little harder to explain.  Don’t worry right now, you’ll like this band.  They’re one of my favorites.  I’ve been listening to them for years and I’ve never been able to see them in concert until now.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

I walked out of the stadium in the giant throng of people happier than I had been in ages.  I’d seen U2 in concert, I had taken two of my friends and my girlfriend and they had been amazed the whole time.  I caught Ginny doing one bit of magic early on, and she’d informed me during a break between sets that it was a charm that basically did the same thing as Muggle earplugs.  Yes, it was loud, but it was good.  We walked far enough away to be out of Muggle sight and apparated back to Grimmauld Place, where Ginny was happy to discover that James had been an absolute dream for Molly and Arthur.  It was then that I dropped George’s ‘suggestion’ that Hermione and Ron should have a baby, and Molly did a rather poor job at concealing her enthusiasm for the subject.  After saying goodbye to the Potters and the Weasleys we ended up at Melody’s house.  I was still on a high from the concert but Melody seemed exhausted.

 

“Please tell me it won’t be like that in Virginia.  I don’t think I could take it.”  She flopped on her bed and kicked off her shoes.  “It was bloody loud, but you looked like you were enjoying yourself.  You sang along to every song.  Hate to tell you, love, but you really can’t sing.”

 

“Oh, I know, but I don’t care, Mel.  You have no idea how much music means to me.  Wait until you get to my house in Virginia, you’ll see.  I have a whole room that’s nothing but albums and CDs.”

 

“Mmmmhmmm.  I still don’t see how they managed to do all that without magic.  That was mental.  And all the people!”

 

“Muggles find a way to do things without magic.  Since we can’t all wave our wands around and make things happen we have to figure things out the hard way.”

 

“Does everyone know all those songs like you do?”

 

There was a somewhat worried tone in her voice, but I wasn’t sure why.  “A lot of people do, music is one of those things that people have in common, like TV and movies.  Pop culture things.”

 

She sat up and put her glasses on the bedside table and looked at me, “But I won’t know any of those things, Hank.  They’ll know I’m a witch.”

 

 _That was it; she was still stuck on that point._   “Well, you could say things are different here.  That your parents never had a TV in the house and only let you listen to classical music.  That would explain some things, but hopefully you won’t have to worry about that stuff.  It’ll be busy, normal wedding stuff.”  _Wedding stuff?  Fuck._   “Um, Mel, I need to go to Diagon Alley tomorrow.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Well,” I sat down in the rocking chair and took off my shoes, not wanting to look at her.  “I have to go to Madam Malkin’s to get measured for my tux.”

 

“Madam Malkin’s?”  Her tone had definitely changed, now I could hear the claws begin to come out.  “ _Really_?  Well, I’m definitely going with you.  Now come to bed, I’m exhausted.”

 

It wasn’t a request, it sounded more like an order, and I didn’t want to disobey.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Luckily the moment we walked into Madam Malkin’s I didn’t see Medea.  Melody didn’t take any chances, because right as we entered the shop she took my hand and was scanned the area to see if ‘that bloody witch,’ as she called Medea, was about.  Probably her day off, I thought, and had just about relaxed when I heard Melody mutter ‘Merlin’s pants’ under her breath.  Medea had walked in to the Men’s department and gave me a look that I interpreted as something between indifference and irritation.  _Wonderful_.

 

Medea seemed to flick a switch, though, as she then turned into the same breathily sweet woman from my first shopping encounter.  “Professor Muggle, so good to see you!  Looking for some new things?  We’ve got some shirts that I think you would love.”  She then turned to look at Melody, who was almost wobbling in her heels that she had insisted on wearing, then back to me.  “I see you have brought an assistant.  I think you did just fine on your own last time.”

 

Melody’s hand seemed to almost crush mine.  I couldn’t see her face but I had a feeling this was going to be one of those polite female fights, the kind where nobody says anything that if you read it on paper would sound nasty, but if you heard the tone and saw the expressions you would realize that it was far from a pleasant conversation.  Time to nip that in the bud.

 

“Assistant?  No, I brought my girlfriend, and I’m not here to shop today, I just need measurements.  Have to send the numbers off to my mother in Virginia, I’m going to be a groomsman in my brother’s wedding.”  Melody’s hand relaxed a bit and Medea looked somewhat miffed.  I looked at my girlfriend “Mel, why don’t you go pick out something nice for the wedding, my treat.  Just nothing magical, ok?”

 

I saw the expression on Melody’s face change to a very victorious smile, and she reached up and kissed me.  “Ok, love.  I won’t be long.”  She walked as confidently as she could in her heels to the other side of the shop, and I noticed she put her hand on her wrist, fingering her charm bracelet.

 

I looked over at Medea, who didn’t look happy for a moment, but erased it and turned into her usual self; well, as usual as I knew, anyway.  “I’m so sorry that I can’t help you, Professor Muggle.  I only know how to do wizarding measurements.  I’ll have someone else assist you right away.”

 

She walked away and I made sure that I looked at the shoe selection.  I may not be the smartest man in the world, but I know that regardless of how good looking a woman is, when you’re with your girlfriend it is not a good idea to appreciate the beauty of other women.  Especially when your girlfriend has a wand and knows how to use it.

 

While waiting for someone to come over and take Muggle approved measurements I browsed the shop, blowing time, but not really interested in anything as I’d already bought a full wardrobe months ago.  I was over by the shirts when another witch began looking at shirts as well.  Someone shopping for her husband, boyfriend or some other man, I thought, and kept looking.  Before I knew it she was right next to me.

 

“I think that one would look lovely on you.”  She was pointing to a bright green shirt and had a devilish look in her eye.  The accent was definitely not British, it sounded more Spanish.

 

_What the hell was happening here?  How did I become a target of women?  Lord knows it never happened when I lived in Virginia.  Was she flirting with me?_

 

She took a step closer and leaned over and picked up the shirt and put it to my chest.  “Yes, I think it’d be wonderful on you.”

 

She was tall and thin with olive skin and long black hair that had a slight strip of red running through one side.  Had to be around Melody’s age.  _Fuck._   “Thank you.  Um, I’m really just looking today.”

 

She put the shirt back on the shelf and looked up to me with a killer smile.  “See anything you like?”

 

 _Holy shit.  She really was flirting with me!_  “Well, I’m just waiting for my girlfriend.  Not really shopping.  Just waiting.”  _Melody where are you?_

 

She pulled back her hair over her shoulders.  “So you have a girlfriend, eh?  A serious one?  Too serious to go have a drink?”

 

“Yeah, I do.  Sorry, I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll wait for my girlfriend.”

 

“Maybe some other time, then?”  When your girlfriend isn’t here?”

 

“I don’t think that would be a good idea.  Sorry.”  _Damn, when did I become Mister Popular?_

 

“Oh well, enjoy your shopping Professor Muggle.”  She walked through the Men’s department and headed over to the Women’s area without looking back.

 

I took a look in the closest mirror and realized that I had turned a shade of red that could only be described as Weasleyish.  Wow.

 

I was saved by an old wizard, the tailor who could do Muggle measurements.  He was five foot tall and about that wide, glasses perched on top of his head and a measuring tape around his neck.  After standing still he used his wand to make the measuring tape do his bidding, and as it swirled around me without being touched I almost felt like I was being attacked by a snake.  After a few minutes he had a quill and parchment out and my measurements were complete.  Now I just had to find Melody and get out of this dangerous shop.

 

Walking over to the Women’s side of the shop I heard Melody’s laugh combined with another woman’s.  Rounding the corner to find the source of laughter I saw Melody and the woman who had been flirting with me sitting in chairs outside of the dressing room.  _What the hell?_   When they saw me standing in dumbstruck surprise they laughed even harder. 

 

“Um, Mel, what’s going on?”

 

The women got out their chairs and walked over to me, and Melody had a mischievous grin on her face.  “Hank, I want you to meet my friend JoJo.  JoJo, this is Hank.”

 

JoJo, the flirting woman, then came over and hugged me and kissed both of my cheeks.  “I am so glad to officially meet you, Hank.”

 

 _Now I was a little irritated._ “What the hell just happened over there?”

 

JoJo smiled at me, and it wasn’t like the smile I had received earlier; this one was much less carnivorous.

 

“Don’t get mad at Melody, Hank.  This was my idea.  Melody told me you were coming here, and well, I decided to give you a little test.”  She looked over at Melody, then back to me.  “Don’t worry, you passed with flying colors.  Now let me treat you to lunch to apologize, please?”

 

Lunch was interesting, to say the least.  I found out that JoJo was Josefina Velázquez, one of Melody’s oldest friends, as they had met in Spain the summer after Melody’s first year at Hogwarts.  JoJo had moved to England after finishing school, works in the International Magical Relations department at the Ministry, and she was the friend that was out of town that had necessitated the owl from Melody on the day of Ginny’s baby shower.  I was irritated about the trick at Madam Malkin’s for a while, but after hearing the two of them talk about Medea for a bit I understood; Medea was the woman that every other woman seemed to dislike and JoJo just wanted to be sure I was going to treat Melody right.  The rest of the conversation turned to the upcoming trip to Virginia, and JoJo assured Melody that she would be fine.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Arriving back at Hogwarts, JoJo’s assurances notwithstanding, I could tell Melody was still worried about Virginia as she launched herself back into my books.  A knock on my door let me know that Mel wasn’t the only one worried about Muggle things, as Lavinia Ryder stood at my door.

 

“Can I look at your books, Professor Muggle?”

 

I heard Melody’s voice from behind me.  “Is that Lavinia?”

 

The little Hufflepuff became excited, “Oh, is Melody here?”

 

She then walked in without being invited, leaving me holding the door while the two Hufflepuffs began rapidly discussing dresses, Quidditch and the boys Lavinia thought were cute.  I returned to my desk and began putting the finishing touches to the final exams for the year, as in two weeks everything would be over.

 

_Over.  I looked over at one of my favorite students (ok, my favorite student) and my girlfriend and thought about how close I came to never remembering any of it.  That if it wasn’t for a very distant ancestor and dumb luck on my part for stopping in at Ollivander’s one day I’d be waking up in June thinking I’d had a very bad accident, that the breakup with Janine would still be fresh, that I’d never have met Melody and that I would be nowhere near as back to my normal self.  I’m not my ‘normal’ self, though.  I’m better than I ever have been.  I’m teaching at an amazing place, I’m a Professor, I have friends here and I have someone in my life that makes me truly happy.  Sure, stuff still freaks me out every now and then, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to everything in the Wizarding world, but I felt comfortable here.  I’d already signed my contract, so I knew I’d be back next term.  It was then that it hit me, truly hit me.  I was really moving to Britain.  Going back to Virginia for Ted’s wedding would be a visit, not a homecoming.  I wasn’t sure how my family would take that._

 

“Lavinia, does he do this in class?”

 

“Every now and then.  Not for this long.”

 

I looked up to see the Hufflepuffs staring at me.  “I’ve zoned out again, haven’t I?”  They nodded.  “Just trying to figure out how I can make the finals harder.”

 

Lavinia’s eyes became wide and she looked up at Melody.  Melody rolled her eyes at me and shook her head at Lavinia “Don’t worry, he’s teasing.  And I wouldn’t let him.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Finals week had finally started and the students were as nervous as students in Muggle schools when it came to the exams.  To be completely honest, I was a bit nervous as well; I hoped that my classes had actually helped educate my students, helped give them an insight to the Muggle world.  More than that, though, I hoped my idea of a practical examination alongside the written examination would come off without a hitch.

 

I’d hatched the idea with Neville one night a few months back, and after some additional conversations Neville had promised to see if it was actually possible.  After a few weeks he’d returned and had said that it would be possible, but only after the Board of Governors had approved would it come to fruition.  It wasn’t until after the M.A.L.T. test that I heard back from Neville that it was a go.  I guess they were waiting to see if I would actually be back as a teacher at Hogwarts before deciding.  I didn’t think my recent financial involvement hurt things, either.  I’d needed Hermione’s help to get everything lined up, but now it was ready.  Time to spring it on the students.

 

The fourth years filed into my class looking apprehensive, but I was happy.  This was the one time with that class that I was sure I wouldn’t have a magical prank pulled on me, not with their final grades in the balance.  After they had all taken their seats I stood up, my robe catching slightly on my chair, preventing what I had hoped to be an impressive moment.  _Oh well_.  After the giggles ceased, I looked over at their worried faces.

 

“The final exam will consist of two parts.  The first part will last thirty minutes and will be a written exam.  Your topic is Civil Rights in the Muggle world.  Although my experience is with American Civil Rights I expect our coverage of the worldwide struggle to be equally represented.”  I turned over a timer filled with sand on my desk.  “You may begin now.”

 

The tables had been cleared from the room and the students were at individual desks, but I sat with George’s notebook open just to be sure.  I watched for a while to make sure there was no cheating, and then began to grade the exams from previous classes.  Every now and then I would look up and was happy to see that all that was happening was the scratch of quills upon parchment.  Occasionally a head would rise in thought, but none of the students were trying to cheat.  Neville told me later there were enchantments in all the classes during Finals that prevented cheating, but I was relying on my previous experience to catch the signs.  When the timer ran out I stopped the students from writing and gathered their parchments.  Now it was time to see how much they’d really learned.

 

“Now, if you would follow me, please.”  Nervous looks went all around the room until Poesy Phillips raised her hand.  “Yes, Miss Phillips?”

 

“If I may, sir, where are we going?”

 

“We are heading outside of the castle where a portkey has been arranged.  We will be traveling to a small Muggle village outside of Hogsmeade.  It is there that your practical examination will begin.  Headmaster Longbottom will be meeting us there to help oversee the examination, so please be on your best behavior.  Please leave your robes and your wands at your desks.  The examination will begin the moment we arrive, and remember, you are trying to blend into the Muggle world.”

 

The classroom had exploded into nervous murmuring at that, and after depositing robes and wands, we left Hogwarts grounds and eventually made our way to a large box sitting in a field.  It would look like a delivery that had gone wrong or something that would have fallen off a truck to non-magical eyes, but it was our portkey.  I looked at my watch.

 

“Ok, would everyone please touch the box?  We have two minutes left and Miss Phillips, if there are any fireworks I swear that you’ll have so many detentions with Filch that everyone will think he’s adopted you.”

 

We arrived in the high-fenced garden of a small cottage set away from the road.  Neville sat at a table having a cup of tea, and the reminder that not only was this part of an exam but the Headmaster was involved as well made my students very quiet.  I walked over towards Neville and faced the crowd.

 

“This will be an individual practical exam.  I won’t be telling you the exact details of the exam until we’ve entered the house.  After you’ve completed your exam you will rejoin the other students here in the garden, but I ask that you stay on the part of the garden over there by the big tree and do not discuss the details with students waiting for their turn.  Headmaster Longbottom will remain in the garden to make sure that you don’t help other students.”

 

After saying that my students noticed a woman in Auror robes sitting under the tree, twirling her wand.

 

“Ah yes, as an added security measure, Auror Brown will be attending you in the garden as well.”

 

Even without George’s book I felt sure that the combination of Neville and Lavender Brown would ensure that there were no slip ups.  Plus, Lavender’s presence was required by the Ministry for my security, but I wasn’t going to tell the students that the Auror was there for me.  Best to let them think there was no way in hell they could cheat.

 

“Miss Phillips?”  Poesy’s head shot around and looked at me.  “I think you’ll be first.  Come with me, please.”

 

We walked into the back door of the cottage, which had a very comfortable feeling.  I was going to like it here, as this was my house.  I’d worked with Neville and had bought the place, since I was going to be here next year, and I didn’t feel like I could say ‘Hey Melody, since I’m staying here I’m just going to move in, ok?’  Hermione had found the house, saying that it would be good since it was so close to Hogwarts, but I made her promise not to say anything to Melody.  Initially I had just wanted to rent a house for the practical exam, but after signing my contract it just made more sense to buy it.  I’d move in after the Virginia trip.  Some things had to be ready for the exams, though, so a lot of the hassle of moving into a new place was already resolved.

 

“Ok, Miss Phillips, your exam starts now.  Would you please turn on the lights?”  Poesy looked at me for a moment then began scanning the room.  She turned on the outside light first, but then had the kitchen light on.  “Well done.  Let’s continue, shall we?”

 

From there I walked her through the rest of the exam, which I thought would be similar to a normal day.  She demonstrated how to turn on the TV, change channels, put a CD in the stereo, use an iPod with headphones, start the kettle and then finally I came to the part that I know I enjoyed.  When the phone rang I watched Poesy go over and very tentatively answer it.  She answered questions about the weather, her health, what was on television, her availability for meeting someone for lunch and then used the normal end of the phone call etiquette.  After hanging up the phone she looked at me strangely.

 

“Do I really have a lunch appointment?”

 

“No, that was just part of the exam, it’s meant to simulate a typical conversation.”

 

“Well, the man on the other end seemed very excited.  Is that normal?”

 

 _For Arthur Weasley, yes, it was, especially as he was using Muggle technology._   “Not usually, but it’s not uncommon.  That’s the end of your exam, Miss Phillips.  If you would please return to the garden and send the first student you see in next.  Give me a couple of minutes to turn everything off first, and then let them in.”


	17. That Whole British Thing

**Chapter 17: That Whole British Thing**

 

Finals were over and I found myself in Neville’s office, having a cup of tea and discussing my practical exams.  We both thought they had gone over well, as well as possible for a first time, anyway.  Peter Sawgrass, from Slytherin, had turned on every light in the house when I asked him to turn on the lights, which was quite thorough but not quite what I was looking for, but everyone seemed to do well.  One of the Gryffindor girls had initially shouted while on the phone, but she got partial credit for that piece as she had conducted the rest of the conversation quite well.  All in all, I thought, not bad for a first year of teaching.  My students seemed to grasp the material and had done enough to pass for eccentric Muggles.  Well, they were British, I thought, then banished my American prejudices.  But there was something not quite right; as while I was floating on cloud nine Neville seemed to have a dark cloud over him.

 

“Neville, something’s bothering you, isn’t it?”

 

He looked over at me from across the desk, turning his teacup absentmindedly in his hands.  “Is it that obvious?”

 

“Well, you do tend to wear your heart on your sleeve.  You’ve been there for me when I’ve needed it, so tell me, what’s wrong?”

 

He sighed deeply “What if I don’t want to be Headmaster?  Not yet, anyway.  Hannah and everybody think I will take the position, but it hasn’t been offered yet and …”

 

 _I got it._   “You still want to teach.  Miss the classroom, right?”

 

He nodded slowly.  “I still love Herbology, and I miss being with the students.  As Headmaster it’s all reports and managing things.  I’m not ready for that yet.”

 

“Then say you want to teach.  I’m sure they can find another Headmaster or Headmistress.”

 

“But Minerva picked me.  I don’t want to go against her wishes, even now.”

 

I looked over at the portrait of McGonagall, and she still seemed to be asleep.  Albus and Snape were not in their paintings, so they offered no advice.  “Have you spoken to Dumbledore about this, Neville?”

 

“No, I haven’t.  I don’t want to disappoint him.”

 

“Neville, I don’t think that’s possible.  He knows you well enough, so I guess he’d know how much you miss teaching.  After all, this was just going to be a temporary thing because of Minerva’s health, right?  I don’t think anyone will think less of you because you want to go back to Herbology.”

 

“But what about Hannah?”

 

 _Ah, one of the sticking points._   “Nev, if she really cares about you she’ll understand.  Trust me, you don’t want to do something that will make you unhappy the whole time, if you really want to go back to teaching then do it.”

 

Neville leaned back in his chair, looking over at the sleeping portrait of McGonagall.  “I suppose so.”  He turned back to me “At least we have you settled in, that makes me feel better.”

 

“Why?  Were you worried?”

 

“Somewhat.  Now that I know your contract is signed and you have a house, I feel like I can go back to my classroom.”

 

I raised my teacup towards him.  “Thank you, Neville.  I couldn’t have made it through this year without you.”

 

Neville’s raised teacup became level with mine.  “You’re welcome.  I’m glad I could help, Hank.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

The end of the year feast was approaching later that evening, and every professor seemed to be besieged with helpful requests from students.  They were all looking to garner some additional house points, as the House Cup was extremely close between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.  I sat at lunch talking to George about his plans for the next round of items from his shop when Poesy Phillips walked up to our table looking very happy with herself.

 

“Yes, Miss Phillips?”

 

She cleared her throat, and then began speaking in a very loud, clear voice.  “Calliope was one of the seven muses of Greek literature, she is credited with being the muse of Homer and her area of influence is epic poetry.  Her emblem is the writing tablet.  It’s interesting that your owl is named after her, because the owl is the symbol of knowledge associated with the Greek goddess Athena.  Calliope’s son was Orpheus, who traveled to the underworld to seek Eurydice, his wife who had died.  Very romantic and tragic.”

 

The Great Hall had become very quiet, and I noticed both the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tables were rapt with attention.  “You are exactly right, Miss Phillips.  Twenty-five points to Ravenclaw.”

 

Upon hearing those words groans came from the Gryffindor table, while Poesy was received as a hero amongst the cheers of her Ravenclaw housemates.  I looked over at George, who had just watched the House Cup slip from Gryffindor’s hands.

 

“You had to do it, didn’t you?  My only year here and we could have won House Cup but no, you had to go and do something so the Ravenclaws would win.”

 

I shrugged.  “The Gryffindors had the same access to my books as the Ravenclaws, George.”

 

When the time for the feast arrived, now that the House Cup was decided, the announcements were somewhat anti-climactic for the Gryffindors.  I sat in my best clothes and robe as Neville stood up to address his students.

 

“Another successful year has now ended at Hogwarts.  To those seventh years that will be leaving us we wish nothing but the best; use what you have learned here when you make your way in the world.  For those who will be back again next year, I have some announcements.”  I watched Neville pause and take a deep breath.  “I am happy to say that Professor Boyd will be joining us again next year.  I think that every student who has taken Muggle Studies will agree that this year has been a definite learning experience for all of us.  Thank you, Professor Boyd.”

 

I nodded, and noticed that some of the students clapped for a bit before realizing that not everybody was joining in.  I may have done well, but I was still a hard enough teacher that I was not universally loved.  I could live with that.

 

“Even though we say welcome back to Professor Boyd, we must say goodbye to Professor Weasley, who has decided to return to his business.  Professor Weasley, you will be missed.”

 

George did get an actual round of applause from the students, causing him to stand up and take a series of very exaggerated bows.  “Any student who shows me their Transfiguration grade at Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes will receive a free item!  Stop in soon!”

 

Neville looked towards George and motioned him to sit down.  “And now for another announcement.  I have decided that I will return to teaching Herbology full-time.  We will have a new Headmaster or Headmistress next year, and I expect you to treat the new appointment with the same respect and courtesy that you have shown me.”

 

I was expecting that announcement, but it seemed as if I was the only one as the members at the staff table looked towards each other questioningly.  Cho, seated next to Neville, received a comforting nod from Neville as he looked at her.  I think the only person excited about Neville’s announcement was Filch, who was probably hoping the next Headmistress or Headmaster would let him reintroduce student torture as a means of detention.

 

Neville raised his hands to quiet the murmuring crowd.  “And now it is time to award the House Cup.  The winners of the Cup this year are…Ravenclaw!  Let the feast begin!”

 

After his mention of the house name the decorations in the Great Hall turned to Ravenclaw colors and symbols, causing the Ravenclaw table to stand up and celebrate.  I noticed that Poesy Phillips was hugged for a slightly longer time than needed by one of the fifth year Ravenclaw boys.  Interesting.  Food began to appear on our tables, and after that it was a long meal punctuated by remembrances from the staff, mostly about how the fourth years had caused so much trouble.

 

After the evening had died down, and there was nothing left to do for the students but pack for the train the next day, I began walking back to my room.  I was lost in thought and didn’t hear anyone until I felt a tap on my arm.  Carrick Frye stood before me, beaming.

 

“Mr. Frye, what can I do for you?  You know I can’t give you any hint about your grades.”

 

“It’s not that, Professor Muggle, I just wanted to say thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome.  What exactly did I do?”  _I thought I knew the answer, but I wanted to be sure._

 

“Me ‘n Ruby are back together again.  I wanted to thank you for you your advice.”

 

“You’re welcome, Mr. Frye.  I’m glad things have worked out for you.”

 

He smiled up at me.  “You too, Professor Muggle.  See you next year!”  And with that he was off.

 

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

I didn’t go down to see the students off, instead I reveled in the fact that I could sleep in.  Such a luxury.  I knew that I would need to be out of my room the next day, but I’d put off packing for as long as possible.  Not that I was lazy, I just…I just didn’t really want to leave.  I understood why Harry called Hogwarts one of the best places on earth now.  Luckily I didn’t have to move my things very far, just to Stintborough, right outside of Hogsmeade.  Plus, I wouldn’t be packing alone as Melody had insisted on helping and would arrive in a few hours.  She’d been quite concerned about where I was going to go, but the impending trip to Virginia had quelled those questions until the term had ended.  Now I knew I was going to be grilled, but in a good way, though, and I was looking forward to surprising her with my little house.  I had thought about saving that for the plane on the way to Virginia, but I knew her better than that.  I also knew there was no way I’d be able to keep it from her.  I eventually got out of bed and was met by Nonky, who carried a tray of tea and scones.

 

“I’m going to miss you, Nonky, and the rest of the house elves.  I don’t know how I could have made it through without y’all.”

 

He seemed embarrassed, but graciously accepted my well-earned praise.  After he Apparated away I sat at my small table, reading the recently delivered _Daily Prophet_.  The news of Neville’s decision had made the paper, but only towards the back, so hopefully he wasn’t deluged by owls.  I would have to check and see how he was doing later; hopefully things had gone well with Hannah.  I figured they would, but only when he heard it from her would he finally have some peace with his choice.  I noticed a large Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes advertisement on one page, and it seemed as if George was wasting no time cashing in on his experience, as the gist of the ad was that George was a ‘former professor who knows how things work at educational facilities.’  Headmasters and Headmistresses would now have yet another reason to ban his products.  I looked over to my desk only to be reminded of the few final examinations that were left to be graded.  No time like the present, so I was busy grading exams when Melody arrived.

 

“You haven’t packed a bloody thing yet, have you?”  She stood there, hands on her hips, looking quite perturbed.  “How long do we have to get everything out of here?”

 

“Good to see you too, honey.  I don’t have to get everything out of here; I can leave some things as I’ll be back here next year.”

 

She gave me a semi-serious scowl, then walked over and stood next to me.  “And where are we taking these things?”

 

“That’s my surprise.  Have a scone.  Ready for Virginia?”

 

She decided to play dirty, as she sat on my lap.  “I think I’d rather hear about where we’re moving your things first.”

 

“Well, I thought about moving in with George, but then he went and got married, so I bought a house.”

 

“You what?”  She didn’t sound happy.  “Merlin’s sake, why did you do that?  You don’t like my place?”

 

 _Great, now what was going to be a nice surprise was going to be a problem_.  “I didn’t want to just assume that I’d move in with you.  Look at it this way, Mel; it’s just outside a Muggle village right outside of Hogsmeade.  If you want to live like a Muggle you can stay with me there, and when I want to live in the Wizarding world I can stay with you.”  _Whoa.  I had just made some rather large assumptions there._

 

“So you think I’d want to stay with you and that I’d be ok with you staying with me?”  She ran her hand over my growing bald spot.  Now she was just messing with me.

 

“You were the one that sounded offended because I bought the house.”

 

“Hmm…we’ll see.  Let’s go see this place of yours.”

 

A short walk past Hogsmeade later I sat in the only chair in the living room, the one by the phone, while Melody sat on the sofa and watched TV.  I had to keep from laughing as she couldn’t believe how TV worked, especially since there was no magic involved.

 

“Will that come on again?  I liked that one.”  She looked excited, but her face fell when I laughed.

 

“That’s not a program, Mel, that’s an advertisement.  Just wait about another half hour or so and I’m sure you’ll see it again.”

 

“Not funny.”

 

“A little funny.  But don’t worry, you’ll get used to things.  Took me a long time to get used to all of the wizarding stuff, and I’m still surprised a lot.  You’ll be fine.”

 

She shrugged and then looked at me as if I’d grown another head.  “Are you telling me that you started decorating this place all by yourself?”

 

I had to laugh, as I was definitely not home interiors type of person.  “No, Hermione helped.  I told her just to make it as comfortable as her office, but more Muggle.  She owled me earlier, there’s more stuff coming while we’re in Virginia.  She insisted that I let her help.  I’m not going to tell Madam Undersecretary she can’t help, so why not?”

 

After stretching out on the sofa Melody looked over at me, grinning.  “I think I could get used to this.  Oh boy?  A cup of tea, please.”

 

“Sure thing, Gwennie.”  I received a pillow to the midsection for that one.

 

“Don’t call me that.  Remember, I know where your sensitive bits are and you’re a deep sleeper.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

We arrived at Heathrow very early the next day via taxi from Grimmauld Place, and the sheer number of people and procedures almost overwhelmed Melody.  Her wizarding-fabricated Passport, thanks to a little help from Percy, made it through with no problem whatsoever.  The contents of my backpack, though, caused a little more of a delay.  While waiting for the inspector to go over it for the third time, with an additional assistant reviewing everything, Melody leaned over to me and whispered “You had to put the badger in your rucksack, didn’t you?”

 

“I wasn’t going to leave him in the baggage compartment.  He’s a friend.  Besides, I’m going to need him for the rehearsal.  Ted’s doing the Scottish thing then because Candice wouldn’t let him have a kilted wedding.”

 

She rolled her eyes at me, and finally after about ten more minutes we arrived at our gate.  The nonstop flight to D.C. was due in a little over an hour and a half, so we had plenty of time to wait.  This didn’t seem like a very good process to Melody, who was fidgeting in her chair.

 

“Just relax and read the magazines.  I bought them for just this reason; we have to be here very early for the flight.  Kingsley pulled some strings with the other minister’s staff to get us these tickets.  If we miss the flight we’re screwed.”

 

“But why do we have to wait so long?  Couldn’t we just show up and they put us on the plane?”

 

“Doesn’t work that way.”  I put my arm around her and whispered “I’ll explain later, they’re very strict about security.  Don’t want to risk us saying anything that will get us in hot water.”

 

“Well, these magazines are pants.  I mean, look at this.”  She opened a page to show me a large spread about WAGs.  “Do these women really think they’re wonderful?  And what exactly are WAGs?”

 

“Wives and girlfriends.  They’re married to very famous athletes, so I guess they do.  Besides, now you know how I felt looking through all of your magazines.”  I was being very careful to not say words like Quidditch, Muggle and _Witch Weekly_.  Melody was struggling as well, but she’d bet George she could go the whole trip without saying anything wizarding.  I was the arbiter, but I had a feeling that it would be me instead of her who slipped up.  Besides, she would find some way of making me not tell George if she did make a mistake.

 

“Well, you’ll never catch me looking like that.”

 

I glanced over at her, and liked how she looked when dressing Muggle.  She’d picked a light green and blue plaid skirt and a white polo shirt and matched them with some flip-flops.  I’d told her that was a good Virginia outfit as it would be hot when we landed, but of course the London rains had come when we exited the taxi, making her feel very self-conscious about wearing a white shirt.  Luckily for her I’d shielded her with my backpack so only minimal soaking had occurred.  I was happy to be back in my normal Virginia clothes; shorts and a grey t-shirt that advertised my undergraduate alma mater, capping it off with flip-flops as well.

 

“Don’t worry, Mel, I don’t expect you to dress like those women.  We just look like regular American tourists now, so you’ll be fine when you land.”

 

“I know you’ve told me a million times, but who will be meeting us?”

 

“My brother Nate.  Like I said, you’ve got to watch out for him.  He’ll probably ask you some embarrassing questions to see if he can get a rise out of you.”

 

She laughed and rested her head on my arm.  “Don’t worry, I know George Weasley, remember?”

 

After trying, and failing miserably, to teach Melody how to play poker they finally let us know our flight was arriving in a few minutes.  I gathered up the cards and began getting our stuff ready.

 

“Why are you in a hurry, Hank?  Everyone else doesn’t seem to be rushing.”

 

“We’re in first class, Mel.  We’ll get on before everybody else.”

 

“Is that normal?”

 

“For first class, yes.  I’ve only done it once or twice because it’s so expensive.  After you see how it all works you’ll want to thank Kingsley.”

 

Sure enough, we were one of the first people to board along with some women who looked like they’d taken the fashion advice of the WAGs to heart.  As we sat down and I showed Melody how to buckle her seat belt, I could tell that now that we were finally on the plane her nerves were really beginning to get to her.

 

“Don’t worry, Mel.  A lot of people are afraid of flying.  Just hold my hand and you’ll be fine.  Later they’ll ask if you want a drink, and if you do just order something alcoholic.”

 

“Oh, I have that taken care of.”  She pulled out her purse.  “I’ve a few calming potions, just in case.”

 

“How the hell did you get through security?  No liquids, remember?”

 

“Undetectable extension charm.”

 

She gave me a smile that reminded me of Poesy Phillips.  “Hmm…well, be careful.  I don’t want the ‘memory specialists’ to have to work on our trip.  You could cause an international incident, you know.”

 

“I’ll be good.  I promise.”

 

“Not too good, I hope?”

 

I received an elbow in the ribs.  “Behave, Hank.”

 

Everything was going quite well, the flight attendant’s talk had a very attentive passenger in Melody who was fascinated, and a little worried, by the little card with pictures of people sliding down ramps and hugging seat cushions in the ocean.  When the engines started up and we began taxiing, though, it was a different story, as my hand felt like it was in a vise.

 

“Mel, you don’t have to squeeze so hard.  It’s normal.”

 

“Just remember, I can get to my things quickly if I need to.  It’s in my purse.”

 

“Same as before, with your little drinks?”

 

“Yes.  Oh Merlin’s sake, are we going to blow up?”

 

I shook my head.  “We haven’t even left England and you already owe George money.”  When we finally lifted off I was surprised at the lack of nerves Melody exhibited.  I looked at her out of the corner of my eye.  “Are you OK?”

 

She shrugged.  “That’s it?  We’re in the air?  Now what?”

 

“Now we wait for a very long time.  You can read” I turned on the little overhead light “or you can try to sleep.  A lot of people take sleeping pills for the flight.  I took one when I came over, and it’s not bad.  You go to sleep and when you wake up you’re in another country.”

 

“Pills?  I don’t think so.”  She rummaged around her purse and very discreetly drank a small potion.  “Grandmum’s recipe.  Now don’t do anything rude to me while I’m asleep, please.”  And with that she fluffed her pillow, drew the window shade and fell almost immediately into a very deep sleep.

 

 _Well hell.  So much for the conversation and additional prep time for Virginia._   I read a little bit, ordered a beer and tried to think of all the different things I could do to explain why my girlfriend was a little different.  _Screw it_.  _What was the worst that could happen?_   I found my sleeping pill and then drifted off, knowing that in a few hours I would be back with my family.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

“This is daft, why are we doing this again?”  Melody leaned against a pillar in the baggage claim area, not impressed with Muggle suitcase delivery technology.

 

“Because this is how it works, Mel.  Our stuff will be here soon.  Hopefully.”

 

“What do you mean hopefully?”

 

 _Why did I say that?_   “Sometimes luggage gets lost, but I don’t think that’ll happen as we had a direct flight, no connections.”

 

“Connections?”

 

“Just look for your bag.  It’ll be coming soon.”

 

Sure enough, our bags did come.  God knows what would’ve happened if a baggage handler looked too closely in Melody’s bag, but the Undetectable Extension charm had fooled Heathrow security so it probably would work on the luggage guy as well.  After gathering up our things I rented a small cart and sat down on a nearby bench to call my brother.  Melody had seen my phone before, but she’d never seen me use it, so I was a bit worried about more witch things being said.  It was a quick call, though, and after finding out that Nate was only a few minutes away we made our way to the Passenger Pickup site and waited.

 

“I’m bloody tired, Hank.  How long were we in that thing?”

 

I laughed.  “Too long.  Bit easier your way, isn’t it?

 

She looked around and made sure nobody could hear “Portkey.  Next time we’re using a portkey.”

 

I smiled.  _Next time.  There’d be a next time.  Nice_.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

After about ten minutes I saw my brother pull up in his Land Rover.  Crap, I’d forgotten that he drove that huge thing, and he’d probably say something to Melody about it being a British car for a British woman.  I’d have to think of something to cover.  Nate came out looking pretty much the same and gave me a big hug.

 

“I see you haven’t grown any, lost any more hair?”  Nate had not inherited the baldness gene yet, he was in disgustingly good shape and as always was at least about five inches taller than me.

 

“Lost a bit, how’s Jenny?  Or was it Anna?”

 

“Ancient history, dude.  You’re way out of the loop.  Single and loving it.”  He looked over at Melody.  “So are you going to introduce me or what?”

 

“Nate, this is my girlfriend Melody.  Melody, this is my annoying little brother Nate.”

 

“ _Little_ brother?”  She looked up at him, at least almost a foot and a half taller than her and put out her hand.  Nate shook her hand and looked at her with his usual annoying smirk.

 

“Not the littlest one, that’s Ted.  You’re seriously dating this guy?  Must be pretty hard up over there in Britain.”

 

“Very nice to meet you, Nate.  Yes, I am actually dating your brother.  He’s quite sweet, you know.”

 

That caused Nate to go into a small laughing fit.  “Sweet?  Yeah, right.  Wait till I tell you…”

 

I picked up a bag and shoved it into his arms.  “Plenty of time for that later, let’s get going.  You know how airport cops are.”

 

We loaded up the Land Rover and before I could say anything Nate was opening the passenger side door for Melody.

 

“Can’t let the lady ride in the back.  Besides, you didn’t call shotgun.”

 

As Melody got in with a nervous look I got in the back quickly and leaned over to her, whispering “Just watch what he does with the seatbelt, like on the plane.  You’ve got one too, but yours is on the other side.”  She nodded and then Nate was in, buckling up.  Melody did a good job copying him, and soon we were off in the D.C. traffic.  Thankfully Nate didn’t blast the stereo like he usually did, but that wasn’t the best thing as it was definitely quiet enough for conversation.

 

“So, Melody, first time in America?”

 

Nate was doing his normal bit, weaving in and out of traffic at a high rate of speed and talking like we were sitting on Mom and Dad’s front porch.  I couldn’t see very well from the back seat, but I was hoping that Nate’s driving wasn’t scaring the shit out of Mel.

 

“Yes, it is.  I’ve been to Spain, but normally I just stay in London.”

 

“London?”  Nate looked back at me in the rear view mirror.  “I thought Mom said you were teaching someplace in Scotland.”

 

“I met her at a party in London before I went to Scotland.”  _Whew, that was close.  Nothing like thinking on your feet.  You would have thought I would have planned out our fake story beforehand, but I was too busy trying to think about things like TV remotes and telephones.  Crap._

 

Melody touched him on the arm.  “Nate, I’m so sorry, and I hope I’m not rude, but it was a very long trip.  I think I’m going to try and sleep for a bit.”  Melody gave him an apologetic look.

 

_Good thinking, Mel._

 

He gave her one of his patented smiles.  “No problem, jet lag has to suck.  Give me time to grill my big brother.”

 

 _Great_.

 

After small talk about the Braves’ record, Scottish weather and Mom and Dad retiring, Nate must have decided that Melody was actually asleep.

 

“So Hank, way to go.  Not only did you chuck that annoying witch Janine but you get a job in Scotland and a cute girlfriend.  Love the accent.”

 

 _I chuckled mentally at Nate’s calling Janine a witch.  If he only knew._   “Thanks.  Yeah, things have really started to turn around.  What’ve Mom ‘n Dad really thought of me being gone?”

 

“Ah, you know Mom.  She misses you but she’s glad you’re happy.  She was really worried about you for a while, thought you might go crazy and do something stupid over in Scotland.  Jen thought you’d be back in a month or so, but Ted and I figured you’d stay for a while.  Glad to have you back home.  Dad’s Dad; he just said to leave you alone and you’d work it out.  I can tell you, he’s been driving us nuts with the house thing; he’s got us over there all the time trying to fix stuff up before they sell it.  Plus Ted and Candice’s wedding, I mean, I’ve been there more than my place in D.C. lately.”

 

“You know, I’m gonna miss the old house.”

 

“Me too, but it sure as hell beats going over there all the time to help out.  It really is too big for them.  Plus now that Dad’s finally retiring they want to go live out by the ocean.  Watch, they’re going to be that embarrassing old couple walking on the beach in the erectile dysfunction commercials.”

 

“Well so what, Nate?  Let them be happy.”

 

“Yeah.  I guess.  Speaking of happy, you must be happy with Melody, you finally got a girlfriend with ‘that whole British thing’ now.  No more drooling over English actresses and shit.”

 

“Fuck off.”

 

“Kiss my ass.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Finally we ended up at my old house, and it looked so weird seeing it again after all the time at Hogwarts.  I compared it to my new house in Stintborough and it just felt…well, like a favorite shirt that I’d outgrown.  Melody was still asleep or doing a good job of pretending so Nate and I unloaded the Land Rover and unlocked the door.  It was surprisingly clean.  I looked over at Nate.

 

“Not me, man.  Mom’s been over here making sure everything is ok while you’re gone, comes over about once every couple of weeks to dust and shit.  I think she went into overdrive this last week, though.”

 

I put down the bags and looked around; everything was magazine photo shoot clean.  The only thing that was different was that my liquor shelf was almost empty.  I pointed to the shelf.  “Nate?”

 

“Hey, you were gone, and I had a party here and we didn’t have time…”

 

“Or money?”

 

“That too, so I, um, borrowed a few things.  Don’t worry; I cleaned up after and I didn’t touch your music.  I still have that scar.”

 

When Nate was little he scratched the hell out of one of my Cheap Trick records, and I kind of went nuts.  We wrestled a while until he hit his chin on the coffee table, resulting in five stitches for him and two weeks of punishment for me.  “Glad you learned something when you were a kid.”

 

“You still haven’t learned shit when it comes to women.  Are you going to let your girlfriend sleep in the truck all night?”

 

I went back out to get Melody, and after opening the door she still seemed to be sleeping, so I unbuckled the seat belt and picked her up in my arms.  “Mel, are you still asleep?”

 

“Not really, but I think I’ll pretend some more.  I like this.”

 

I carried her back inside and laid her down on my bed, whispering “Just give me a few minutes and I’ll get him out of here.”  _Sneaky little witch._

 

Nate stood at the open fridge when I returned, opening a bottle of beer.  “Hey, it was a long drive, and besides, Ted stocked it for you.  Can’t disappoint the groom, you know.”

 

_Great, there went an early exit for Nate._

 

He handed me one and sat down on the couch.  “You know tomorrow’s going to be busy, right?  Plus there’s Ted’s bachelor party.”

 

“Oh holy hell.  Really?”  I walked over to my favorite chair and sat down, taking a big drink.  “So who’s doing that?”

 

“Paul, his best man.  You remember Paul, right?”

 

“Oh yeah, his college roommate.  Damn, so what are we doing?  Please tell me we’re not going to a strip club.”

 

Nate laughed “Oh hell no, Candice told him if he did that he’d have a very boring honeymoon.  We’re just going to O’Flaherty’s.”

 

 _Good, just the Irish pub.  Hopefully I wouldn’t have to stay long, as I was panicked about what Melody would be doing_.

 

“Don’t worry, bro, Mom’s got it all planned out.  She’s having your girlfriend over for movies and girl talk.”

 

_Why the hell did I do this again?  If it wasn’t Ted and Candice’s wedding I would have stayed over in Scotland.  This was a freaking Muggle minefield._

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

After finally getting Nate out the door I went back into the bedroom to find Melody looking through old photo albums.  _Great.  Why the hell didn’t I hide those things?_   I took off my clothes and threw most of them on the chair then slid into bed.

 

“This may be your house, Hank, but honestly, can’t you put your clothes away nicely?”

 

“Old habits.  Find anything interesting?”

 

“Somewhat.  Your hair choices were very, ah, daring when you were younger.”

 

“It was the eighties.  Now I’m just happy I have hair.”

 

She snuggled into my chest, bringing the photo album so it rested on both of our laps.  “Why didn’t you bring your photos with you to Hogwarts?  It would have been much easier for me to know who your family is tomorrow.”

 

“I forgot to pack them.”  _Plus I didn’t want to bring any of the pictures of Janine with me_.  “Ok, I’ve been over this before, but a refresher probably wouldn’t hurt.”

 

I took the photo album from her and pulled out some recent pictures.  “My dad’s name is Tom, he’s about my height and is pretty much grey all the way through his hair except for a few spots that are still dark.  He’s just retired from his insurance agency.  Mom’s name is Karen; I get my hair color and inability to tan from her, as well as my MacDonald heritage.  Mom’s around your height and has finally figured out a diet that will work for her, as when we were growing up she was always eating weird stuff.”

 

I pointed to another picture on the bed.  “Jennifer’s my only sister, and she’s three years older than me.  She’s been married to John for about ten years, and they have Maddie and Oliver.  Maddie’s four and Oliver’s two.  Jen’s a full-time mom and John works with computers for a local hospital.  I don’t need a picture for Nate since you’ve met him.  He’s only a year younger than me but he’s obviously a lot taller.  He’s the playboy of the family, he’s a dealer at an expensive car dealership and he’s always dating some hot young thing.  He goes through them like socks.  It always sucked when I was growing up because the girls wanted me to introduce them to Nate.”

 

I pulled out the last picture and handed it to Melody “Ted’s the baby of the family; he’s ten years younger than me.  He was a surprise for Mom and Dad.  Ted’s about my height, and he and Candice have been together forever.  All of our grandparents have passed away, so besides maybe an aunt or uncle and a few cousins it’ll just be my family at the wedding.  I’m sure Candice has invited half the town, though.”

 

Melody had listened intently, and was making mental images of my family, I guessed.  Finally she handed me the pictures and looked up at me.  “Your pictures are very boring, they don’t move.  I like wizarding pictures better.”

 

“Me too.”  _Suddenly I thought of Janine, the pictures of her that used to be in the house.  I thought I’d removed all of them from plain sight after we broke up, but I didn’t know where they were.  Didn’t want Melody to find those._

 

Melody turned to the back of the photo album and brought out a piece of paper.  “This was on the bed.  Looks like your Mum’s got your schedule all planned out.”

 

I took the paper from Mel and recognized my Mom’s handwriting, but also my sister’s.  Jennifer had lined through the entry “Breakfast” at eight and had written “jet-lag recovery.”  I’d have to thank her later.  Our first event to attend was the family barbeque at noon, then nothing until the rehearsal at five and dinner following.  At seven Mom had written “Bachelor Party – I expect good behavior!” and “Melody over for Girls’ Night.”  Monday was the Fourth, and the wedding was in the early afternoon with the reception to follow, then the family would watch fireworks they always set off at the high school football field from Mom and Dad’s backyard.

 

“Mom’s got it all planned out.  She doesn’t leave much to chance.”

 

I guess I did, though, because loud knocking was coming from my front door.  _Who the hell could that be?  If it was Nate I would kill him_.  I threw on my shorts and answered the door, surprised to see Lavender Brown and Harry Potter standing in front of me.

 

“Where’s Ron?”

 

Lavender looked over her shoulder at Harry with a look of amused irritation.  Harry shrugged “Um, we decided it would be best if I came instead of Ron.”  The two Aurors came into the house and deposited their small bags on the floor.

 

I looked at the two of them, dressed as Muggles.  “Sorry guys, I kind of forgot about you being here.”

 

Lavender sat down in my chair.  “Obviously.  It’s a good thing we had our contacts at the AAB, or else we’d still be trying to find you.”

 

I looked at Harry.  “AAB?”

 

“American Auror Bureau.  They’re aware of the situation and your visit, so we’re working with them on logistics.  Our cover is that we’re friends of yours who just happened to be here visiting America and ran into you at the airport.  We couldn’t get a hotel so we’re staying with you.  Does that work?”  Harry looked at me and it was Auror Harry, and I knew better than to disagree.

 

“I thought I heard familiar accents.”  Melody walked in wearing an old bathrobe that I’d left in the closet.  “Good to see you, Lavender, Harry.  I take it your our security detail?”

 

Lavender nodded at Melody.  “Until you leave I’m your best mate, so wherever you go, I go.”

 

_Oh fuck.  Two witches at Girls’ Night with my Mom?  I. Am. Screwed._

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

That morning found Lavender making the bed in the spare room while Harry folded up the sheets from the couch.  I made a small breakfast and coffee, explaining to Melody and Lavender how cooking happened in the Muggle world.  As Harry had grown up with Muggles he helped out with breakfast, saying he was pretty good at bacon, and eventually we all sat down to discuss everything.  Luckily, thanks to Jennifer we had time to get our stories straight.  Harry was a visiting businessman who sold drills or something and Lavender was his assistant.  We’d met at the party where I had supposedly met Melody, and Harry was over here to see about selling his drills on the American market, but something had happened and his meeting was cancelled, so now they had free time and decided to visit us.  They were interested in seeing the Fourth of July celebrations, especially as Americans were celebrating their independence from Britain.  Harry assured us that he could go into great detail about drills, enough to bore anyone from asking too many questions.

 

The time was approaching for the drive over to my parents’ house when I began to worry about my car.  It hadn’t been driven since I left, months ago.  If it didn’t start, I’d be screwed.  I excused myself and walked out to my small garage, and after opening the door I was once again surprised, as everything was neat as a pin.  I had a feeling I knew who was responsible, and after opening the door to my old Audi I saw a notepad on the dash.  I was right, Dad had been by on a regular schedule, and had written down when he’d put gas in, changed the oil, all of the maintenance things.  The latest scrawl of his at the bottom said that he’d tried working on the old Karmann-Ghia out back, but hadn’t made any headway so he had just covered it up with the tarp.  What the hell was I going to do with that car, now that I was going to move to Scotland?  Or the old Audi, for that matter?  I’d think of that later.

 

I walked back in and let everyone know that it was time to leave, and all of us in our Muggle best got in and buckled up.  Harry had to show Lavender how to work the seatbelt, but after that we were off, enjoying what had turned out to be a very pleasant Virginia day.  It felt good to be driving again, window down with the wind and sun, countryside speeding by.  I couldn’t help it, so I know I drove a little faster than I should have, especially in the curves, and that resulted in some choice comments from Lavender.  She was going to be fun.  After a half hour or so I pulled off the main road and onto the long gravel driveway leading to my parents’ house.  It was as I remembered, only in much better shape.  Nate wasn’t lying when he said that Dad had been making him and Ted do a lot of work.  The big front porch was newly painted and several rocking chairs were stationed in their usual places, the hedges were trimmed and I could see a new gazebo out back.

 

After parking next to Ted’s Land Rover I turned off the engine and saw Mom appear at the front door, waiting, wearing her usual flowered apron.  I got out and opened Melody’s door and took her by the hand.  I didn’t even get to do anything else, as Mom was there hugging me.

 

“It’s so good to see you, Hank!  I’m so glad you could make it.”  Then letting go of me she turned to Melody.  “You must be Melody.  I’m so glad to meet you.”  Instead of shaking Melody’s outstretched hand Mom gave her a hug.  I smiled at Melody over Mom’s shoulder and could see the surprised look on her face.”

 

“It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs. Boyd.”  Melody was still a bit flustered, but she was pulling herself together well.

 

“Oh, just call me Karen.”  It was then that Mom noticed Lavender and Harry.  “Oh, I’m so sorry.  I’m Karen Boyd, Hank’s Mom.”  She shook hands with the Aurors, who politely returned her handshakes.

 

Harry took the lead before I could say anything.  “Mrs. Boyd I apologize for our intrusion, we had a business meeting that fell through and Hank was kind enough to take us in, as he’s the only person I know in America.  I do hope we won’t be any trouble.”

 

“Not at all, not at all.  Hank, why don’t you take everybody out back, your father is trying to burn the steaks again.”  With that Mom gave me a kiss on the cheek and headed back into the house.

 

Melody looked over at me “Your Mum’s a hugger, isn’t she?”

 

“Oh yeah” I nodded.  “Used to embarrass the hell out of me when I was a teenager.  Come on, let’s go meet everybody.”

 

After the general craziness of introductions I found myself sitting with my Dad and brothers, my brother-in-law John, Ted’s best man Paul, Candice’s Dad Frank and Harry drinking beer around the barbeque grill.  Lavender and Melody were with Jennifer and the rest of the women, hopefully not saying anything witchy.  Dad had finally relinquished control of the grill over to John, who was putting his own ‘special blend’ of spices on the steaks.

 

“Thanks for keeping the car in shape, Dad.”  I looked over and he nodded.

 

“No problem, Hank.  Gave me something to do; besides, your Mom’s been driving me crazy ever since we decided to put the house up for sale.  That and the weird guy who’s been hanging around lately have been my only excitement these days.”

 

Harry’s face changed slightly.  “Weird guy, you say?  What’s been happening?”

 

Dad took another drink of beer and shrugged.  “Harmless old guy, I think he’s homeless.  I’ve seen him walking around the area, and we don’t get too many people out here just wandering around.  Just us and a few houses and the high school out this way.  Called the Sheriff’s office, and they checked him out, said he’s just a weird old guy.  Probably did too many drugs in the Sixties.  Haven’t seen him for a while, but I told the deputy I’d call if I saw him again.”

 

I looked quickly to Harry, and saw him shake his head ever so slightly.  I turned back to my father.  “I wouldn’t worry about it, Dad.  Probably nothing.”

 

“John, you’re doing it wrong.  You’ve got to put them on the top rack and turn the heat down.”  Ted had walked over to the grill to inspect the progress of the steaks.

 

Ted’s future father-in-law Frank had eased his long frame out of the lawn chair and was standing to the other side of John, “Well, you’ve got to sear them initially to keep all the juices in, then move them.”

 

John shook his head.  “This isn’t the first time I’ve grilled.  Y’all just back off.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

The steaks, despite having multiple expert opinions, turned out perfectly.  We sat at several picnic tables out back underneath the big magnolia tree and tucked in noisily.  The sweet tea was a hit among my wizarding friends, but I did notice that at one point in the meal that Harry had whispered something to Lavender, and after hearing what he told her Lavender’s face was a little strained, but then resumed its normal appearance.

 

“So, Mel, have a nice visit with the ladies?”  Of course I picked the exact moment to ask her when she’d just taken a big bite of corn on the cob.  She raised her eyebrows and chewed, as if to say ‘you had to ask me at that exact moment?’

 

After finishing, she smiled.  “Yes, very nice.  They _really_ didn’t like your ex-girlfriend.  You know that, right?”

 

“Yeah, I found out after we broke up.”  _Merlin’s pants, what was that conversation like?_

 

“Oh!”  Melody stopped with a forkful halfway to her mouth.  She used a very quiet voice “If your mum or anybody says anything, I work for a very small regional newspaper.”

 

“Got it.”

 

“Maddie, get back here right now!  You didn’t finish eating yet!”  Jennifer stood up while her daughter ran across the yard towards a big box.  “I swear that girl doesn’t listen.”

 

“Chip off the old block, I’m afraid.”  Dad smiled, but Jennifer was not impressed.

 

“I was never that much trouble.”  She didn’t look at Dad, but watched Maddie instead.  “What’s in that box?”

 

“Sorry sis.”  We all looked to Ted, who received a stern look from his not-yet wife.  “I might have picked up some fireworks in Myrtle Beach a few weeks ago.”

 

“Goddamn it, Ted.  You should know better than that.”  Seconds later Jennifer was across the yard, holding a wailing Maddie by the hand.  Maddie wasn’t helping the situation by dragging her feet.

 

Melody laughed and looked up at me.  “Is it always like this, Hank?”

 

Nate leaned across the table.  “Usually.  You should have seen it when we were kids.  Ted usually got the worst of it.  Jennifer never got in trouble because _she was the girl_ , Hank was too goody-goody, and I got out of stuff because I always had a really good story.  Ted always got nailed.  I’m their favorite, you know.”

 

Lavender, at the other end of the table, laughed at that, and Nate gave her what he called his ‘seal the deal’ smile.

 

_Oh fuck._

 

After everything had been cleared away we all sat under the trees, watching Ted light off illegal fireworks (Virginia laws suck) while Jennifer and John tried to keep their children from catching on fire.  Both of the kids were too close for Jen’s tastes.  After talking to Ted for a moment Maddie came bursting over to me, hair wet from running around.

 

“Unca Hank, Unca Ted told me to ask you how you light bottle rockets.”

 

I looked over at Mom, who rolled her eyes.

 

“Well, I guess.”  I got up from my chair, followed by Melody.

 

“I want to see this, Unca Hank.”  Melody’s smirking grin was encouraging.

 

“Ok, Maddie, go stand over by Ted.”  I took a bottle rocket out and accepted the punk that Ted handed me.  “Now this isn’t the way you do it when you get big, ok?”

 

She nodded.  I held the bottle rocket in my hand and lit the fuse with the punk, and when it got to just the right point I chucked it underhanded into the sky.  It stalled for a bit, and then the fuse hit the mark and it shot out over the neighbor’s field and exploded with a pop.

 

“Do that again and there’ll be a very sad English girl at the wedding tomorrow.”  Jennifer stood next to me with an Angry Mommy look.

 

“It’s Ted’s fault.  He told Maddie to ask me.”  I pointed at my brother.

 

“Ted?”  Jennifer turned her glare to him.

 

“You can’t hurt me, I’m getting married tomorrow.”  He held his hands up in the ‘I’m completely innocent’ gesture.

 

“You’re lucky I like Candice.”  With that she picked up Maddie and headed back to the chairs.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Finally it was time for everyone to prepare for the evening’s festivities.  Arriving back at my house it was a flurry of activity as I kilted up and while the others changed quickly and waited for me.  After reminding Balthasar that he was among Muggles and needed to be on his best behavior, we all piled into the Audi and drove over to the church.

 

“Is this an American thing, Hank?”  I looked over at Melody, who looked very pretty in her pale green dress.  “They’re getting married at your Mum and Dad’s house, but we’re having the rehearsal at the church?”

 

“No, it’s just Mom covering bases.  The church is the backup plan in case of rain.”

 

After a few more minutes I dropped the girls off at the front door and then went to park in the small, already crowded parking lot.  Harry didn’t say anything as I turned off the ignition, but I knew what was on his mind.  “You’re thinking about that guy my Dad was talking about, aren’t you?”

 

Harry nodded.  “It might be nothing, but we’ve known about your plans for a while in the Auror’s office.  We could have a leak.  Hank, I’m not sure about this.  The WLF has been a little too quiet lately, and we didn’t see anything at the airport.  That was where we were really concerned.  The plane was a big target, and we were worried they’d do something while you were in the air.  I was feeling better about things, but now I’m not too sure.”


	18. Smoke

**Chapter 18: Smoke**

 

I stood at the front of the church between Paul and my brother Nate and wondered why the hell we’d all had to wear kilts.  If it was for the actual ceremony that was one thing, but the rehearsal dinner?  It was a good thing that I actually liked my little brother because it was stupid.  Nobody was going to see us except those in the wedding party, family and a very few friends.  I guessed it was for the pictures, as the photographer was making everyone stand very still.  Maybe it was Ted’s wish for a kilted bachelor party.  God knows Nate would get a kick out of it.  Mom had drug us to all of the Celtic Games in the area ever since we were kids, so it probably made her happy to see one of her sons doing a Scottish wedding, even if it wasn’t the actual ceremony.

 

The minister, who was wearing cargo shorts and a very loud Hawaiian shirt, motioned towards Ted and Candice.  “When the music begins, then you’ll walk down the aisle as husband and wife.  Paul, you and Cathy will be next, then Hank and Stephanie, and so on.  We’ll all end up in the front of the house, the newlyweds on the porch while the rest of you will be on the steps below them.  Let’s walk through that, shall we?”

 

Ted and Candice led off, then Paul and Candice’s sorority sister, then me and Stephanie, Candice’s older sister.  I told Melody before we started she didn’t need to worry, Stephanie was married and had a kid, so there wasn’t going to be any ‘groomsmen after the bridesmaids’ thing except for Nate, who was probably already trying to figure out his angle.  After arriving at our designated spots someone informed us that the rehearsal was finally over and we could retire to the church basement for the rehearsal dinner.  So far, so good, but Harry’s comment in the car was sticking in my head, and I was worried about my family.  I looked over to see that Harry and my mom were chatting nicely over fried chicken, but it was Lavender that surprised me.  There she was, sitting next to Nate, eating up his B.S. lines.  He was probably trying to impress her with his knowledge of Jaguars and Aston-Martins, which struck me as funny because she would have no clue.

 

I felt a foot kick me under the table, and it wasn’t Mrs. Woolwine, Mom’s friend who sat across from me intent on her conversation with my dad.  I looked over and found a somewhat miffed Melody, who gave me a semi-glare.

 

“Aren’t you going to talk to me?”

 

“I’m sorry, just thinking about stuff.”

 

“Does that include me?”  She put her glasses on the top of her head.  “I am your girlfriend, you know.”

 

“I know, I’m just thinking about something Harry said earlier.”  I lowered my head and whispered “he’s worried about the WLF.”

 

She took a large sip of sweet tea.  “Well, that’s his job, isn’t it?  To be worried?”

 

“I suppose.  And I’m worried about you, to be honest.  All night with my mom?”

 

“It won’t be all night, silly.  Your sister will take us back to your place.”  She glanced over at Nate and Lavender, who were now sitting closer together.  “I’m worried about you, going out drinking with your brothers, especially _that_ one.  Should I warn Lavender?”

 

“Can if you want, but I have a feeling she can take care of herself.”

 

“You have no idea, you silly Mug…”

 

“Watch it!”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

By the time I realized it was twelve-thirty I knew things weren’t going to end well.  We had taken over O’Flaherty’s, and it had just dwindled down to the wedding party, as Dad and Candice’s Dad Frank had left a long time ago.  I felt bad for my brother-in-law, as he’d just been able to have two beers then had to go back and get the kids so Jen could have some ‘girl time.’  Surveying the debris on the table I hoped Melody brought some hangover potions; three empty fifths of scotch, an empty bottle of tequila, a half-empty bottle of Jagermeister, too many beer bottles to count and a couple of ashtrays full of cigarette and cigar butts.  Nate had handed out the cigars, and Paul had thrown two packs of smokes on the table as soon as we’d sat down.  I had resisted for a while, but after beer number four or shot number eight or whatever I’d given in.  Mom would not be pleased and I didn’t know how Melody would react.  Nate sat nearby with one of the waitresses on his lap and told her something that made her giggle.

 

I looked at my watch again, and it took a bit for me to realize that I wasn’t wearing my glasses.  After finding them on top of my head I realized that they didn’t help; everything was blurry.  Harry and Ted sat off a ways in a booth; I guess Harry was giving Ted pointers on married life, but for all I knew he could be telling him how to play Quidditch.  It was only the reappearance of Dad and Frank, combined with the time that got us out of the bar.  Dad took Harry and I back to my house while Frank drove Ted, Paul and Nate to Mom and Dad’s place.

 

“Why’s Frank driving them back to your house, Dad?”  I leaned against the cool, cool window of the car.

 

“He doesn’t know how to get to your place, plus it’s a longer drive.”  Dad looked over at me and laughed.  “You boys are going to feel it in the morning.”

 

“Don’t talk about it.”  I opened the window and hung my head outside.  _Ack.  Bugs._

 

“How are you doing, Harry?”  Dad’s voice was entirely too loud.

 

“I’m fine, sir.  I only had a couple.”

 

“Smart man.”

 

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew we were at my house and I had my head wedged between the doorframe and the car seat.  I hoped it wouldn’t leave a mark.  I just waved at Dad as he told us goodbye and I stumbled to the door.  I tried to open it, but it wouldn’t open.  _What?_   There were lights on; the girls had to be home.  I banged on the door and heard Lavender’s voice, but it wasn’t nice Lavender.

 

“What did Harry Potter say to me about James the night before we left?”

 

Harry stood close to the door “The only way to get James to sleep when he’s cranky lately is to sing the Chudley Cannons fight song.”

 

The door opened, and I almost fell into my house.  Instead I stumbled a few steps, caught my foot on something and landed face-first in Lavender’s ample chest, stopping myself by throwing my arms around her in the process.

 

“Hank Boyd!”

 

I felt Lavender push me away, combined with Harry’s pulling me off, and saw a blurry Melody in my Clash t-shirt and boxer shorts looking furious.

 

“Here’s your Muggle, Melody.”  Lavender held me at arm’s length.  “He smells horrible.”

 

“I’mfineLavenderHiHoneyhow’reyou?”  Everything was slurring together.  I felt Melody’s hand on my arm, and we headed towards my bedroom, but I turned around and stopped, jerking Melody’s hand away.   “An’ I’m threeone, one, onepoint freepercentwizar!”

 

The next thing that I really remember was standing in the shower completely naked with semi-cold water on me, then seeing a potion come through the shower curtain.

 

“Oh thank God, I need that.  Thank you, love.”

 

“Don’t ‘love’ me, you, you…you bloody arsehole!  I should have thrown you in there with your kilt!”

 

She was not happy.  The effects of the potion were staring to work, and now I was slowly beginning to remember things.  Oh, my brothers were going to be hurting.  They didn’t have a witch to take care of them.  I turned off the shower and grabbed a towel, and there was no Melody in the bathroom.  _Great_.

 

I wrapped the towel around my waist and walked into my bedroom to find Melody on the bed sitting cross-legged, waiting.  Her cheeks were red and she was tapping her wand on her thigh.

 

“Have fun, did we?  You reek of smoke.  And Lavender…”

 

“That was an accident, honestly.”

 

“Mine aren’t big enough for you?”

 

“Yours are perfect.  It was an accident, I swear.”  She wasn’t backing down on this one, she was still angry.  “Did you have a good time with Mom?”

 

She pointed her wand at me “Don’t try to change the subject.”

 

“So we’re talking about Lavender’s breasts?”

 

“Yes, we ARE!”

 

Her steam was rising, but my sobriety level wasn’t normal enough to stop me.  “I DON’T CARE ABOUT LAVENDER’S BOOBS!”

 

I heard a muffled 'Hey!' outside the bedroom and Melody whipped her wand around and cast a spell at the door without looking.  She reached down to the bed with her other hand and took a pair of my boxers and a t-shirt and threw them at me.

 

“Well maybe you should because I don’t think you’re going to see mine anytime soon.”  She flicked her wand at the door.  “You can leave now because I’m going to sleep.”

 

I ended up in my chair and pulled another chair over to form a makeshift bed.  Harry was lying on the couch, sort of smiling.

 

“We’ve all been there.  She’ll get over it.”

 

“So you and Ginny?”

 

Harry nodded.  “Oh yeah.  I’ve been on the receiving end of the Wrath of Weasley a few times.  Just apologize and treat her nicely, she’ll come around eventually.”

 

I leaned my head back on the chair.  “How long is eventually?”

 

“Well, I don’t know.  You’ll have to test the waters on that one.”  He laughed a bit.  “And Lavender, you have no idea how many blokes have wanted to do that.”

 

I pulled a sheet over my legs and tried to get comfortable.  “Yeah, well, I don’t think I’ll be telling anyone.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

I woke up to find Melody’s hand playing with my bald spot.  The sun was entirely too bright and my mouth felt like I’d dragged my tongue across a desert.  It was official: I was too old to do nights like that anymore.  _Wait, Melody?_   “Am I still in trouble?”  I looked up and she was sitting on the arm of my chair, and most importantly she didn’t look ready to hex any parts off.

 

“A little.  I’m sorry I got so mad last night.  It’s just, well, if it was anybody except Lavender…she’s always had guys after her, especially since she’s become an Auror.”

 

“So if it had been Medea?”

 

“Don’t push it.  You know what I mean.  Besides, Harry reminded me of the New Year’s Eve party a few years ago.”  Now she looked embarrassed.  “Well, I’d had a few…”

 

Harry walked in and sat down.  “More than a few, so she flashed Seamus Finnegan on a bet.”  Melody rolled her eyes as Harry laughed.  “So I just reminded her this morning while making tea. “

 

“Nice, Mel.  You were the one going on about boobs last night.”  I sat up a little bit and watched Lavender walk in, hear the word boobs, then turn around and walk back out of the room.  “I think I might be able to have a little breakfast if anything is left.”

 

“Breakfast?”  Melody shook her head at me.  “That was over hours ago.  It’s almost time for lunch, and then we need to go to your Mum and Dad’s.  You slept all morning.  Snored horribly, so we cast a charm over you to shut you up.

 

 _Fuck.  Now I had to start acting normal or Mom would kill me._   I sat up sort of quickly and realized that I was going to need some magical help to get through the day.  “Um, honey, do you have any…”

 

She handed me what I hoped to be a hangover potion.  “Drink this, take a shower, and then we’ll forget about last night.  If you’re lucky.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

I was marginal, Ted was bad and Nate?  Wow, was Nate hurting.  Paul looked fine, which pissed everybody off, so we’d made him be the runner throughout our wait to find out the status of our schedule.  We were in Ted’s old bedroom, wearing our tuxes, and Nate was lying on Ted’s bed with a cold washcloth across his face.

 

“Pflm telmm me wweh dddnnt alfhl strikh ouff lafhgt nightht.”  I looked over and realized that Nate was trying to talk with the washcloth still over his face.  I pulled it off and threw it on the floor.  “Hey, not cool.”

 

Ted rubbed his temples and looked down at the floor.  “What the hell were you saying?”

 

“I said please tell me that we didn’t all strike out last night.”  Nate leaned over and looked at me “I know Ted didn’t get anywhere last night, bad luck and all, so what about you, Mister I-Have-A-Hot-Young-English-Girlfriend?”

 

I shook my head.  “She made me sleep on a chair in the living room.”

 

“Ouch.”  Nate looked over at Paul.  “Any luck?”

 

“Dude, I’m married.”

 

“Yeah, but it’s a wedding and you’re not dead.”

 

Ted shook his head.  “You’ll never get married at this rate, Nate.”

 

“Works for me.”  Nate put his arm over his eyes.  “Much better.”

 

At this point Dad stuck his head in the door.  “Whoa, boys, better pull it together.  Less than a half hour to go, and your Mom’s on her way up.  You’re needed for pictures.”

 

 _Great.  Wait, Nate struck out?  Mr. Playboy?  Mr. Smooth?_   “So you struck out with the waitress and the bridesmaids, Nate?”

 

“Fuck off.  And if I hadn’t been so drunk last night I could’ve sworn your damn sporran bit me.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

We survived the pictures and somehow ended up in the right places at the right time, nobody puked and we all looked presentable.  I considered it a major victory.  I watched Candice and her father come down the aisle that had been made between the folding chairs and flowers out on the back lawn, and she took Ted’s hand and met the minister inside the gazebo.  I looked away from the bride to see Melody, smiling at me in her pretty silver-blue dress, wearing a hat with a large spray of feathers.  An English tradition, she’d said, and I thought it was great because she looked beautiful.  I guess I must have been caught up looking at her as I felt Nate nudge me to look towards Ted and Candice as the ceremony began.

 

Here I was, in Ted’s wedding, and it was around a year ago that I was thinking about doing the same thing with Janine because I thought that was what I was supposed to do.  Now I couldn’t even fathom that; there’s no way that I would even think about marrying Janine now.  Melody had changed my world in so many ways.  Opened my eyes.  It felt right, felt like it always should have, not what it had before, like I was settling for what I thought would be ok instead of what I wanted.  _Did I really want to marry Melody?_   It was too soon.  But I couldn’t imagine her not in my life.  _How soon is too soon, though?_

 

It’s funny, for all the planning that goes into a wedding it seems like the actual ceremony is over before you know it, as I found myself walking down the aisle with my assigned bridesmaid, still thinking about Melody.  The bridal party arrived at the designated point, and then the pictures began.

 

I did fine, but I was ready to go when I heard Mom yell “Melody!  Can you come here please?”  Mom motioned towards me and Melody walked up, the first time I’d been with her in a while.

 

I was happy to see her, and hopefully she could tell it from my tone of voice.  “It’s for Mom, so try not to remember you’re mad at me.”  I looked down at her and got a mouthful of feathers.

 

“Sorry, love, not used to the hat.”

 

I put my arm around her waist and the photographer began snapping away.  “Love, eh?  I guess I must not be in that much trouble.”

 

“I’m being nice to your mum.  Now hush or you’ll ruin the pictures.”

 

Her tone wasn’t even close to last night.  Guess I wasn’t going to be hexed after all.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Melody noticed that when we toasted the bride and groom I barely drank any of my champagne.  “I see you’ve learned your lesson, then?”

 

“Yes ma’am.”  My girlfriend, more than ten years younger than me, was making me feel like I was five and had broken a window with a baseball.  _How to they do that?_

 

We sat at a small table in the improvised reception area.  Ted and Candice didn’t want a dance, as it was the Fourth of July; instead they had opted for a small reception and would leave shortly for their honeymoon in Belize.  Looking over I figured that Nate must be feeling better as he’d pulled a chair between Harry and Lavender and was trying his best.

 

I leaned over to Harry and asked him quietly “Does he have a chance?”

 

Harry put his arm around my shoulder and answered in the same volume level “After you said you weren’t interested in her chest, yes, I’d say he does.  But not until she’s off duty.”

 

 _Off duty.  Damn.  I’d forgotten about that._   I looked around the reception, trying to see anything out of place, but couldn’t find anything.  If those WLF bastards did anything at my brother’s wedding, I, well I couldn’t do a damn thing.  I’d brought my wand, but that was just out of habit.  Some wizard I am.  Poesy was right, my wand is useless.

 

“Hank, you’re doing it again.”  Melody waved a feather that had fallen off of her hat at me.  “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing, nothing.”  I looked at her and could tell she wasn’t buying it.  “Ok, I just remembered why Harry and Lavender are here.  That’s all.”

 

She put her hand on my arm.  “Don’t worry, everything will be fine.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

After saying goodbye to the bride and groom the guests began leaving, our cue to go change out of our wedding clothes.  It felt good to put on a polo shirt, shorts and flip-flops, as a black tux in a Virginia daytime wedding in July is hot, let alone an outside wedding.  I saw my wand on the dresser and put it in my pocket; by now it was habit, just like putting on my watch.  Melody had decided to take a quick cool shower before she headed back outside, so I found myself sitting in a lawn chair next to the table with the umbrella drinking sweet tea when Mom came and sat down beside me.

 

“I think it went well, don’t you?”

 

“I do, Mom.  It was great.  You and Jennifer did a great job.”

 

She took the pitcher of sweet tea off of the table and filled up my glass.  “Thank you.  I’m glad you’re out here by yourself, I haven’t had you all to myself since you got here.”

 

I smiled at her.  “Well, Mom, you put together the schedule.”

 

“True, but I wanted to tell you how much I like Melody.  She’s such a nice girl.  A little eccentric, maybe, but she is English.”

 

“What do you mean eccentric?”  _Uh-oh._

 

“Well, after I made a few vodka tonics…”

 

“Mom…“

 

“It was a girl’s night.  Anyway, Jennifer was teasing her about your crush on English actresses, and I asked them what movie they wanted to watch, then Melody said that she’d never heard of any of the movies I mentioned!  Can you imagine that?  So I put on the Titanic DVD, and you’d think that Melody and the other girl, Lavender, right?

 

“Yeah, Lavender.”

 

“Such an interesting name.  Yes, you’d think those girls had never seen a movie before.  They loved it.”

 

“Well, they were both raised by pretty strict parents, so I guess that explains it.”  _Please buy it, Mom.  I don’t know if I can come up with a better story._

 

“There are worse things.  Like your ex.”  She shook her head.  “If you only knew how many times I had to bite my tongue.  Your father said you’d figure it out eventually, but I just wanted to shake you.  Now, seeing how happy you are, and how happy you make her, well, hang on to this one, Hank.”

 

“Oh, I plan on, it, Mom.”  _Should I tell her now?  No time like the present._   I couldn’t look at her, so I focused on the neighbor’s field.  “Um, Mom?  I’ve taken a teaching job over in Scotland for next year.”

 

“Not exactly what I wanted to hear, but I kind of expected that.  After you wrote about Melody, your sister said that you probably wouldn’t be coming back except to visit.  And now with us selling the house…well, you kids are all grown up now.  I can’t expect you all to move to Florida.  You’d burn to a crisp, and I don’t know how I’m going to manage.  Industrial strength sunscreen is the only thing I can think of.”

 

I looked around at the yard, over at the remains of the tree house and the basketball hoop by the garage.  I would miss it, but it had been so long since the place had been home.  “I’ve bought a house over there, a little village called Stintborough.  It’s not very big, but I do have a guest room, so you and Dad could come and visit.”

 

She brushed her hand through her hair, and looked over at me.  “I’d like that, Hank, and now that your father has retired it’s possible.  I thought he’d never leave that job.”  She looked at me with a serious face.  “Is Melody moving in with you?”

 

“No, she’s got her own place in London.”

 

“How are you going to manage the distance?  You’ll be in Scotland and she’ll be in London.  I guess there’s the train.”  She paused for a long time, and I didn’t say anything.  “Hank, are you serious about her?”

 

“I really think so, Mom.  It’s never been like this.”

 

“I can tell.  You remind me of the old Hank, the one I used to know, before the bitch.”

 

“Mom!”

 

“Well, it’s true, and now I don’t have to hold my tongue.  And after seeing you two today, and realizing that you were probably going to go back to Scotland soon, I thought I should give you this.”

 

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, red velvet box.  “You know we’re giving things to you kids, and I’m not saying you have to do anything right away.  Lord knows I need some recovery time after your brother’s wedding, but this was your Gran’s.  Don’t tell your sister or your brothers, because if you do I’ll deny it, but you were Gran’s favorite.  You take after my side of the family.  Just take it with you, and if things work out you’ll have it.  Gran always wanted you to have it.”

 

She handed me the box, and when I opened it I saw my Gran’s engagement ring and wedding band, the diamond still as large as I remembered from when I was a kid.  Even in the dying light of the sun I could see the large, square cut diamond glitter as well as the small diamonds that formed a border around the main stone.  I closed the box and put it in my pocket, then leaned over and kissed Mom on the cheek.

 

“Thank you, Mom.  This means a lot to me.”

 

“You’re welcome.  Now remember, just because I gave this to you doesn’t mean you have to do anything right away.  I’d like to get to know Melody a little bit better, maybe meet her parents if we come and visit, but I think I know you well enough to know you’ve thought about it.  Maybe today?  I saw the way Nate had to get you to look at Ted and Candice.”

 

 _Damn, Mom doesn’t miss anything.  And visiting with Lane?  That would be interesting._   “Yeah, I admit, I thought about it some today.”

 

“That’s what I thought.” We heard the screen door shut and we both looked back to see Melody walking towards us.  “Ok, now when she gets here, Hank, this little talk of ours never happened, except the part where you told your old mother that you’re moving an ocean away from her.”

 

“I hope I’m not interrupting.”  Melody walked over and kissed me on the cheek and took the chair next to me.  I caught her eye and she blatantly fingered her charm bracelet.

 

“Not at all, Melody.”  Mom looked over at me.  “You did a good job on the bracelet, Hank.  I’ve never seen charms like some of those before.  Must have some interesting jewelry shops over in Scotland.”

 

 _Oh Mom, if you only knew the half of it._   It was then that I noticed that Mel was wearing my madras plaid shirt; the one Mom got me for my birthday last year.  Maybe Mom wouldn’t recognize it.  The loud sounds coming from the porch let me know that my niece was now loose, and sure enough she came running over and jumped into Mom’s lap.

 

“Issit time yet, Grammy?”

 

“Not yet, Maddie, the sun has to go all the way down before the fireworks start.”

 

Jennifer made her way to our little gathering, followed by Harry, Lavender and the rest of my family.  Nate was right next to Lavender, who didn’t seem to mind at all.  I did notice that Lavender’s top had an extra button unbuttoned, giving a good hint of cleavage.  I guess if I didn’t appreciate her boobs she wanted someone else to, and Nate was obviously more than willing.  We filled in our British guests about our Fourth of July traditions, teased them about celebrating our victory against their country, and after a while the sun had gone down sufficiently for the fireworks to begin.  Maddie had decided to sit on Melody’s lap, a big accomplishment as Maddie was actually quite shy around new people.  Harry had tried to get her to come see him, but she refused and stayed on Melody’s lap.

 

“I like your shirt, Melody.”

 

I looked over at my sister who just smiled a very polite smile at me while Melody must have been thankful for the increasing darkness.  As it was I felt her foot kick me slightly.  _Teasing payback’s a bitch, honey._   Now I couldn’t wait to talk to George.

 

Before anyone could say anything else the first of the fireworks shot into the sky, spreading out into a shower of silver, sparkling rain after its big explosion.  Maddie became excited, but then a big red streak shot across towards us, going over our heads.

 

Dad shook his head.  “Volunteer Fire Department needs some practice.  The high school isn’t that far away, but that one was close.”

 

The next big stream of red light shot over our heads, hit the garage and set it on fire without an explosion.  Harry and Lavender were on their feet immediately, wands out.  From behind the garage and across the field shapes stood up in robes, wands pointed out towards the direction where the red light must have come from.  Melody picked up Maddie and gave her to my Mom and then got her wand out.  The silence was immense, and then another red light streaked through the darkness, hit the house and set the back porch on fire.

 

Lavender looked over at Harry with a glare.  “They’re here!”

 

Harry simply nodded and scanned the horizon.  “I know.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

There were no sounds except the fire rapidly spreading on the garage and licking the front door of the back porch.  One of the robed figures put out the fire on the porch, but the garage was too far gone.  The fire must have reached Mom and Dad’s cars, because it suddenly blew up like an action movie special effect.  In the space of time it took me to look over at what used to be the garage, and then back to the field I saw at least five robed figures advancing slowly towards us, wreathed in a black fog.

 

One of the robed men who had appeared on our side of the field came over to Harry, wearing robes that seemed to change colors.  “Ten, maybe more.  Wide perimeter coming through the field.”  His accent was American.

 

“Not as bad as I thought, Major.”  Harry looked to the man in shifting robes.  “We’ll set up a defensive perimeter here.”

 

“That’s not going to work, sir.”  The major looked over at Harry with a grim face “They have a couple of Dementors.”

 

My family was in shock; Dad stood and watched what was left of his garage burn while Mom held Maddie for dear life.  Jennifer and John were holding Oliver between them, and Nate came up to me, incredulous.

 

“What the fuck is going on here, Hank?”

 

I pulled out my useless wand and looked at my brother.  “I’ll explain later, just do whatever Harry and Lavender say.”

 

“Jesus, Hank, do you…”

 

“Shut the fuck up and do what I say, Nate.  NOW.”

 

I pushed my brother towards Lavender and stood next to Melody.  This was my family, goddamn it.  My parents’ house.  I was tired of all of the hiding, security, all of the bullshit.  I didn’t care if I had to use my bare hands, I was not running.  I felt a hand on my shoulder and whipped around to find Harry, his face taut.

 

“Hank, the people in camouflage robes are the AAB.  Listen to them.  Stay here with your family.  Don’t question me.”

 

With that he began running towards the field trailed by several AAB agents.  To my right Lavender stood in a defensive posture, wand ready and sniffing the air.  _What the fuck was she doing?_

 

She looked over at my family “Gazebo, now.  MOVE!”  As we ran she shouted over her shoulder to Melody “take the right side, I’ll take the left.  Do it.”

 

I ran with everybody else to the gazebo.  Once we got inside Mom and Jennifer huddled around the kids, Dad, John and Nate also were also crouching down, looking helpless.  I saw Mom look up at me in confusion and terror, and I knew if we all made it through I’d have to explain later.  And there was definitely going to be a fucking later.  I stood next to Melody with my wand out, and she shook her head.

 

“You’ll only get in my way.  Get back, Hank.”

 

Before I could say anything the lights and shouts began, green and red lights flashing through the air.  I heard a scream in the distance, and then the cold began.  I felt it in my toes first, then it worked its way up throughout my body, and I felt like I’d never hold Melody again, I’d never give her the ring, I’d live alone and miserable for the rest of my life, I’d never see Hogwarts again, I’d…

 

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!”  It was the combined voices of Lavender and Melody that brought me out of my despair, and I raised my head to see two silvery vapors turn into an owl and a giant wolf stream forward, pushing two large black shapes away with an invisible force.  I felt much better, but slightly drained.

 

For some reason that I still can’t explain, I looked behind us and saw two black robed figures coming our way.  I pulled Melody down but one of the jets of light hit Lavender squarely in the back, and she went down with a scream.  Melody whirled around and before I could say anything the two men were upon us, one of them elbowing Nate in the face, sending my brother down in a crumpled heap.  While using physical force the man’s hood had fallen back, revealing him to be a white man about twenty years old, his head shaven and covered in tattoos.

 

“Fuckin’ Muggle trash!  Y’all gonna die!”  He raised his wand towards my niece.

 

I acted before I could think and pointed my wand at Maddie and yelled “NO!”  Light erupted from the end of my wand, forming a silvery-blue barrier over my niece.  The skinhead’s green light reflected off of the shimmering barrier and hit him square in the face.  He made no sound, but simply fell over on top of my brother’s unconscious body.

 

For some reason everything then seemed to be completely silent.  I picked up the skinhead’s wand and felt a thorn pierce my skin but didn’t react.  I took a step towards the other black-robed man who was fighting with Melody; his hood was now down as well, showing his bald head and tattoos.  His back was towards me, and I took the skinhead’s wand, jumped on the man’s back and jammed the wand in his neck.  Blood began flowing and it must have broken his concentration, as Melody sent a spell towards him that made him turn as stiff as a board.  I pushed myself off as he fell against the rail of the gazebo and then toppled over headfirst into the yard.  Some part of me heard my mother’s screams, but I didn’t react.  I took some very quick steps and pulled Melody towards me, but she pushed me away, turned and put her back against mine.

 

My head whipped around when I saw motion out of the corner of my eye and realized it was Lavender, pulling herself up with the gazebo.  An AAB agent jumped over the rail and landed in one of the only open spaces on the floor, wand held slightly behind but level with the top of his head.  He glanced over at my family and yelled for all of us to stay down, but quickly turned towards the field which was now partially smoking.  I could see shapes move and lights flash but had no idea who was who.

 

Again it was so quiet that the only sounds I could hear were the fire, my mother’s panicked sobs and my ragged breathing.  The AAB agent looked over at Lavender “You ok to protect?”  She nodded and he took off for the field at a sprint, robes trailing behind him.  Fireworks continued to go off in the sky, but instead of hearing ooh and aah sounds every time there was an explosion I jerked involuntarily.  I scanned the yard but there was no movement, just the eerie half-light flickering from the destroyed garage.  Time seemed to stretch out forever, and I looked at my watch.  Five minutes.  Ten minutes.  No sounds, no lights.

 

“Hank!”  My mom looked up at me, frantic and pleading.

 

“Not now, Mom.  Quiet!”  My breathing had calmed somewhat but my heart was still beating as if it wanted to leave my chest.  For some reason I turned to look over my shoulder and saw a silver stag come running over to the gazebo.

 

The stag spoke to me in Harry’s strained voice “All clear, safe now, get everyone in the house.”

 

I turned to Melody as the fireworks finale began, accompanied by the wail of fire engines.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

As I helped Dad pick up the dead skinhead and roll him off of Nate I saw an AAB agent pull off his robe, revealing combat fatigues.  His crew cut shone with sweat as he walked over.

 

“Take them in now, I’ll deal with the Fire Department.”

 

I looked over to the smoldering remains of the garage, and then saw the left half of the back porch was missing.  I took one of Nate’s arms, Dad took the other and John grabbed his feet; we carried him towards the house.  Lavender and Melody led Jennifer, Mom and the kids in front of us, opening what was left of the door as we carried Nate inside and put him on the couch.  Mom had overcome her shock and mopped the blood off of Nate with a handkerchief; the blow from the skinhead must have broken his nose.  The sirens were becoming louder now, and Dad looked over to me.  I was holding Melody; leaning against the side of the couch, not believing what had happened, the shock and gravity of the night was hitting me and I felt myself begin to shake.

 

Mom looked up from Nate “He needs a doctor, Jennifer call 9-1-1!”

 

Lavender stepped forward, shaking her head.  “No doctors.”  She pointed her wand at Nate.  “ _Episkey_.”  Nate’s broken nose righted itself and he twitched slightly.

 

Mom looked incredulously at Lavender “Who the hell are you people?”

 

I walked over and knelt down, putting my hand on Mom’s shoulder.  “They’re witches, Mom.  And wizards.  And they’re good people.”

 

Before Mom could say anything Harry and an AAB agent walked into the house.  All eyes looked to Harry as he took a deep breath.

 

“It’s done.  Major Spencer’s men have the area contained now.  The Fire Brigade has gone, and we can expect visitors soon.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

My family, friends and AAB agents filled the living room.  I sat in Dad’s big chair with Melody in front of me on the footstool but I couldn’t look at my family, instead I found myself tracing the pattern of the oriental carpet in my mind.  A swirl here that turns into another swirl there, a color change, a new form.  I felt Melody’s hand on my arm.

 

“Hank?  They’re waiting for you.”

 

I looked up to see my Mom cradling Nate’s head.  Her eyes were red and the shock of the night had now turned to anger.

 

“Mom, Dad, everybody?  I’m sorry this happened.  Harry and Lavender were here to make sure we were all safe, and…”

 

“And we did.”  Harry stood over by the fireplace, and every eye turned to him.  “We didn’t lose anybody.”  He looked over to Mom.  “Mrs. Boyd, what Hank is trying to tell you is that witches and wizards really exist.  I didn’t know about it until I turned eleven.  We live in every country in the world, but you wouldn’t know about it because we don’t show ourselves to you.”

 

“Mom, Dad?”  I didn’t know if I could find the words, but I had to try.  I owed it to Mom.  “I’ve been living in what they call the Wizarding world.  I teach Muggle Studies at a school for witches and wizards called Hogwarts.  Muggle is what they call people that can’t do magic.  I thought I was a Muggle, too, but I’m not.  I’m a wizard, but only barely.”  Melody took my hand.  “Melody, Harry and Lavender are witches and wizards.  So are the people that helped us out.  There are bad wizards, too.  They’re the ones who attacked us.”

 

Major Spencer’s gruff voice broke the silence that had lingered after my explanation.  “We’re with the AAB, ma’am.  The American Auror Bureau is kind of like a combination of Special Forces and a SWAT team.  We’ve been working with Harry and the British Aurors as the WLF has been targeting your son over the last year.”

 

“I’m ok, Mom.  Neville and Harry and Ron and Arthur and the rest have helped make sure I’m ok.”  I felt Melody’s hand squeeze mine gently and I laced my fingers into hers.  “It’s the reason I really couldn’t tell you what was going on, I knew you’d be worried.”

 

Mom laughed, but it was a hollow laugh.  “Worried?  Hank they blew up the garage and almost burned down the house!”  She gestured to my still unconscious younger brother.  “And they almost killed Nate!”

 

“Ten HUT!”

 

Major Spencer and the other AAB agents suddenly came to attention.  An old man with long white hair walked into the house, flanked by a man and a woman wearing dark blue robes.  The man saluted Major Spencer and walked over to Harry, shaking his hand.

 

“Glad to meet you, Auror Potter, I am sorry it had to be under these circumstances.”

 

Harry nodded “You too, Chief Anderson.”

 

The white haired man, Anderson, shook his head. “No time for formalities, Harry.  Bob will do fine.”  With that he turned to the Spencer.  “Report, Major.”

 

“Unknown assailants attacked under the cover of the Fourth of July fireworks display, setting fire to the garage and part of the house, negating Auror Brown’s abilities.  Auror Potter and small forward team engaged the enemy in the adjacent field.  Auror Brown secured the Muggles in the gazebo where they were attacked by dementors.  The dementors were driven back by Auror Brown and Miss Bramble’s patronus spells, but it appears the dementors were only a diversion.  Two assailants attacked the gazebo, breaking Nate Boyd’s nose and rendering him unconscious.  One assailant attempted to use an unforgivable curse on one of the children, but the spell was reflected back at him due to an unknown spell cast by Hank Boyd, killing the assailant instantly.  The other assailant was dueling with Miss Bramble when Hank Boyd incapacitated the attacker by driving the first assailant’s wand into his neck, breaking his concentration and allowing Miss Bramble to cast a successful _petrificus totalis_ spell.  The spell turned out to be unnecessary as Hank Boyd’s attack severed an artery, killing the man.  Auror Potter and the forward team defeated the other attackers, which we are now holding with incarcerous spells.  The assailants’ identities have been revealed to be two members of the British WLF and members of the Knights of the Wand.  Sergeant Williams and Private Johnson put out the fire on the house while Lieutenant Davis obliviated the Fire Department, convincing them that the fire was a false alarm.  The Large Scale Obliviation team was dispatched to the crowd watching the fireworks and has contained the situation.”

 

“Very good, Major.”  Chief Anderson looked over at me, then to Harry.  “I take it from the documentation I received earlier that further obiliviation is not required, correct?”

 

Harry nodded.  “Yes, sir.  Hank is legally a wizard in Britain, so his family is not covered by the secrecy statutes.  They will need to sign the Family Secrecy Agreements, though.”

 

Dad stepped forward to Harry and Chief Anderson and saluted quickly.  “Excuse me, I only served in the National Guard, and I never made it past private.  I know how the military works, somewhat, so can you explain it to me in language that a private can understand?’

 

Chief Anderson looked over at Dad and saluted, then put his hand on Dad’s shoulder.  “The Wizarding world exists alongside your world, with our own government and military.  I am the Chief, the head of the military.  The title Chief is a part of our Native American magical history.  The secrecy statutes Harry mentioned are one of the key parts of our world, they ensure that no one tells any non-magical person about our world.  Obliviation is where a spell is cast and non-magical people forget what happened, they think it was a dream or never remember it.  As your son Hank is a legal wizard in Britain, the Obliviation process will not be needed for you and your family.”

 

“What the fuck happened?”  Every eye looked to Nate, who was raising himself slowly out of Mom’s lap.  “And who the hell are all these people?”

 

Jennifer, holding Maddie who was still crying softly, looked over at me.  “I think Hank’s going to tell you, aren’t you, Hank?’

 

Chief Anderson looked over at me, and then turned back to Major Spencer “Let’s give them some space.  I think it’s time we interviewed the prisoners.”  With that the AAB agents left the living room, leaving my family looking to me for answers.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Nate was now sitting up, rubbing his head.  “One more time, Hank.”

 

“I took the job in Scotland to get away from everything.  When I got there after a while I found out that the MacDonald side of our family were wizards.  I’ve inherited some of their abilities, but not much, because I can’t really do anything.  The school I teach at is for kids who are witches and wizards and I teach them about the non-magical world.  It was a big deal that I was teaching there, and the WLF, the group that attacked us tonight, they want to wipe out Muggles, the people that can’t do magic.  It’s like the Civil Rights movement here, and the WLF is like the Ku Klux Klan.  Harry and Lavender are Aurors, magical cops that fight bad guys.”  I sat back in my chair and drank some tea.  Almost instantly after the AAB left Melody put the kettle on, saying it was the only thing she knew how to do in situations like these, but I was sure she’d never been in this particular situation before.

 

Mom had calmed down a lot, and Jennifer was relieved that I’d been there to protect Maddie.  I still didn’t know how I’d done that, the only thing I could think of is that I was scared and had just reacted.  Dad had poured bourbon for everybody, but mine sat untouched.  I needed a clear head.

 

“Mom, are you ok?”

 

She took her bourbon and downed it in one go.  “Gran always said that her side of the family was a little strange, but this is beyond anything I ever heard about.”  She looked over at Melody.  “So you’re a witch, too, right?”

 

Melody took my hand underneath the table. “Yes, I am.”

 

Mom glanced over at Dad, who shrugged.  Reaching across Jennifer, Mom took my shot of bourbon and raised it towards Melody, then drank it all at once.  We all looked at her as she sat the glass on the table.  “Well, I’d rather Hank be with a witch than a bitch.”

 

John, who had been silent pretty much since we entered the house, began to laugh uproariously.  This seemed to be the cue for everybody, and all of the night’s tension and fear turned found an outlet:  laughter.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Melody and I arrived at my house via side-along apparition.  It seemed unreal, looking at my house after what had happened that night, and I couldn’t get the skinhead’s face out of my head; I kept imagining him popping up from behind a bush or emerging from behind a tree.  I reached into my pocket to find my keys, but they must have been back at Mom and Dad’s place.  _Mom and Dad’s place.  The garage, the porch._   Melody lifted her wand and the door unlocked.  We walked into the very dark and quiet house, and Melody took my hand.  She lifted her wand again and the lights began to glow softly.  I couldn’t speak.  I let her lead me to the bedroom and sit me down on the bed.  She sat beside me and put her head on my shoulder.

 

“I know this has to be a lot to take in, Hank.  I’m still in shock.”

 

“Melody, I killed two men tonight.  Because of me two people are dead.”

 

“Hank, it was much worse than this during the war.  Think of Molly Weasley and Andromeda Tonks.  They both lost children.  And my Dad…you’re alive, and you saved your niece.  You acted in self-defense”

 

I heard what she was saying, but it wasn’t really sinking in.  I was quiet for a while, and instead focused on the cobwebs in the corner of the ceiling.  Mom missed those.  Eventually I looked over to Melody.  “I guess I don’t have to worry about how to tell Mom now, do I?”

 

“No, I guess you don’t.  Come on now, you need to sleep.  Don’t worry about your family, Harry and Lavender are with them at the hotel, and the AAB is on high alert.  We’ve got AAB agents watching your house as well, so you don’t have to worry.”  She got off the bed and went over to her suitcase, pulled out a little bag and took out a small vial.  “It’s a sleeping draught.  You’ll need it tonight.”

 

I took the vial from her and popped the top, downing it in one go.

 

“Come on now, Hank.  Let’s go to bed.”

 

She gently eased me off of the bed and undressed me like a sleepy child.  After getting in bed I laid there until I felt her warmth next to mine.  Then, with her arm around my waist, I drifted off into the blackness.

I heard a muffled ‘Hey!’ outside the bedroom and Melody whipped her wand around and cast a spell at the door without looking.She reached down to the bed with her other hand and took a pair of my boxers and a t-shirt and threw them at me.


	19. Home

**Chapter 19:  Home**

 

 

When I opened my eyes the sun was shining in through the open curtains, my face warm in its light.  I felt a hand brush against my hair.  “Mel?”

 

“No honey, it’s Mom.”

 

I rolled over to see Mom sitting on my bed; she looked tired and old.  _When did my Mom get that old?_

 

“Hank, I’m sorry, honey.  I had no idea.  Harry had a long talk with your father and me last night and explained a lot of things.  I’m glad I didn’t know you’d been in the hospital over there; I would have been worried sick.  He told us what you did for all of the others, how you helped get that law from being passed.”

 

I sat up and rubbed my eyes a bit.  I’d have to thank Harry for helping on this, as I was in no position last night.  I hardly remembered what I’d said.  “I didn’t really do a lot, Mom.  I answered some questions and waved my wand.  That was really it.”

 

“Yes, Hank, but you went ahead even though you were in danger from those WLF people.  Whether you realize it or not, it was very brave, and I’m proud of you.”  She stood up.  “Now, get dressed.  My house may be damaged but it still has a functioning kitchen.  I was planning on fixing breakfast for you over here, but there’s nothing in your fridge except for beer.”

 

I watched Mom leave the bedroom and leaned my head against the headboard.  Mom knew everything.  Dad and everybody else knew.  Well, Ted and Candice didn’t, they were probably lying on the beach in Belize.  That would definitely make an interesting visit later.  I got out of bed and immediately realized that I was very sore, so I took my time finding some old shorts and my Ramones t-shirt and walked into the kitchen.  Mom was sitting there with Melody, having tea.  It looked like they were getting along very well as they didn’t hear me come in.

 

“I could use a cup.”

 

Melody smiled at me, then lifted her wand and levitated a teacup to the table, added my two sugars and milk and slid it to the open side of the table, Mom watching in amused disbelief.  I kissed Mom on her cheek and sat down.

 

Mom looked over at me.  “Hank, what do I put in my coffee?”

 

“I dunno, Mom.  Some sugar and milk?

 

She shook her head.  “One of the yellow sweeteners, no milk.”  She looked over at Melody.  “You know he’s hopeless at these things.”

 

“Oh, I know.”  The two most important women in my life exchanged glances.  Melody looked up at me with a smirk.  “Hopeless.”

 

I shook my head and pushed my glasses on top of my head.  “Merlin’s pants, I don’t know about you two.”

 

Mom looked over at Melody.  “Merlin’s pants?  Is that swearing?”

 

“Not really, Karen, but he does have a problem with cursing.  He was saying ‘Holy shit’ in the first picture I ever saw of him.  And he’s known to have rather salty language.”

 

“Henry!”

 

“Mom, I’m almost forty.  You can’t ground me.”

 

She rolled her eyes and looked at Melody.  “Please help me on that one.”  She looked over at me then, and I felt like I was five.  “Now finish your tea, Hank, and let’s go have some breakfast.”

 

While they wandered around my house I finished the rest of my tea and put the cup in the sink.  Mom was already outside when I caught up with Melody.  She looked up at me, “do hurry, Henry.”

 

“Sure thing, Gwennie.”

 

As we pulled into the driveway in my old Audi the damage at my parent’s place looked worse in the daylight.  I could see debris from the garage had managed to find its way to almost the entire front yard, and the hedge looked like it had been run over by something large, possibly the fire truck.  Mom had apologized for taking my car without asking, but as she and Dad didn’t have a car anymore it was the least I could do.  Since I wouldn’t need it when I returned to the UK I told her to keep it.

 

“Who’s here, Mom?”  We walked towards the front door, now the main entry for the house.  Before last night everybody used the back door.

 

“Well, your father and Harry.  John took the day off to be with Jennifer and the kids.  The AAB agents brought us here this morning, something about disappearing.  It made me sick, but your father loved it.”

 

Melody fell in step with my Mom, looking over her shoulder at me quickly before turning to clarify.  “It’s called Apparating, Karen.”

 

A few steps later we were at the door, and Mom looked at me.  “Can you do that, Hank?”

 

“Hell no.  Mom, I’m the wizarding equivalent of the ninety-eight pound weakling.  Less than that, actually.  My first year students can run rings around me.”

 

“Not to mention your fourth years.”  Melody was smiling as she held out the door and looked to Mom.  “You should hear what they do to him in class.”

 

 _Wonderful.  Now I’d get to hear the teasing from my family and I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it._ I found Harry and Dad sitting the living room with papers on the coffee table.  Dad was holding a quill like it was breakable.

 

“The last one’s here, sir.  Just initials on this one.”  Harry pointed to a spot on the parchment, and Dad leaned down and signed, then handed Harry the quill.

 

“I still think a good ink pen’s the way to go, but official is official.  Lord knows I’ve dealt with enough forms to know that.”

 

“Harry, what’s going on?”

 

“Secrecy agreements, Hank.  It’s for Muggles who have a witch or wizard in the family.  Just a formality.”

 

“I’ve already signed mine, Hank.”  Mom continued walking towards the kitchen, answering without looking back “Your father is just doing his because he wouldn’t wake up this morning.”

 

“I’m retired!”  He looked up at me with a smirk, “Maybe I should get a part-time job.”

 

“Not a good idea, Dad.  She’s got Florida on her mind now, you know how she is.”  When Mom got something in her head, then that was it.  It may take her a while to get to a decision, but once it was made the die was cast.  I sat down in the recliner and kicked up the footrest.  “Gwennie, I’ll take another cup of tea now.”

 

Melody walked up to me and held out her hands like she was taking my order on an invisible order pad and affected a horrible Cockney accent.  “Well guv’nah we gots Earl Grey, English Breakfast, Irish Breakfast and Chamomile.”  Then she smacked me on the back of my head and walked into the kitchen to the sounds of Dad and Harry’s chuckles.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

While breakfast was in-process I talked to Dad and Harry about the agreements; all of my family that were at the house during the attack had signed except for Maddie and Oliver, as they were obviously too young.  Harry didn’t think that there was any chance of breaking the secrecy agreements with Maddie, as everyone would think that she just had an active imagination.  The AAB had talked to the appropriate departments, so Mom and Dad’s house would be rebuilt before it could be sold.  That led to a discussion, actually more of an educational lecture from Harry, on how the Wizarding world was structured in America.  The UMS was the United Magical States, which were a little different than the states in the government I knew.  It was weird hearing how Virginia and West Virginia had never split, that west of the Rocky Mountains belonged to the Native American tribes, and that Texas had just been admitted to the UMS fifteen years ago.  Harry had put through paperwork to have me registered as a wizard in the UMS, and after the attack the AAB would now be guarding my parents and the rest of my family for quite some time, at least until they got everything under better control.  The bald guys with the tattoos belonged to a group called the Knights of the Wand, sort of a combination of the WLF and the Ku Klux Klan, and they were number one on the AAB’s hit list.

 

 _Agreements, registering…that was a lot of paperwork._   “Harry, did you sleep last night?”

 

“Yes, I did, in the adjoining room in the hotel next to your parents.  Why?”

 

I shrugged.  “How did you find the time to get all that paperwork ready?”

 

“I didn’t, Hank.  But I guess you know who probably did.”

 

 _I had a feeling that I did know._   “Percy, right?”

 

He sat back, looking shocked.  “I figured you’d guess Hermione.”

 

“Percy doesn’t leave paperwork to chance if he can help it.  He’s good with that stuff.”

 

Harry looked over at my Dad, who nodded.  Harry’s tone was not as bright as before.  “Speaking of not leaving things to chance, I’ve talked with the AAB by owl this morning.  They think that the security risk is still high for you here, so we’ll be leaving this early this afternoon.”

 

“Dad, does Mom know?”

 

“She does, son.  I agree with Harry, though.  I’d feel better if I knew you were back where you’re protected.”

 

“Plus I have to get back to work, if I still have a job.”  Melody leaned against the doorframe outside of the kitchen, toast in hand.  “Thanks to you I don’t think I’ll get vacation for years.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

As we sat down to breakfast I realized that Nate and Lavender weren’t there.  _This would be interesting._   “Mom, where’s Nate?”

 

After flipping the eggs Mom turned over her shoulder.  “He and Lavender went up to his place to get a car from his work.  His Land Rover was destroyed last night, so he needs something to replace it.  John’s driving them in his car.”

 

 _Ok, Harry stayed in the adjoining room to Mom and Dad’s room at the hotel_...”When’s he supposed to be back?”

 

Dad looked at the clock on the wall.  “I’d say about an hour or so.  He called us when they got out of D.C., said that traffic wasn’t bad.”

 

I looked at the clock.  “Half hour.”

 

Melody looked at me as if I was crazy.  “Your father said he’d be here in an hour.  You don’t think so?”

 

“You really were asleep when Nate picked us up at the airport, weren’t you?”

 

Breakfast was very enjoyable.  It was crazy to think that we were sitting there, eating breakfast in the kitchen when just the night before the back yard had been a war zone.  I thought about what I’d done.  I’d never even fired a gun unless you count BB guns and the one time I went skeet shooting, but I was responsible for the deaths of two men.  Bad men, but still.  Before I could sink into dwelling over last night Harry brought out pictures of James and Ginny, causing Mom to turn into Maddie and Oliver’s Grammy, cooing over the baby pictures and amazed by how Wizarding pictures work.  Melody was trying to explain Quidditch to Dad, and failing miserably.  She had even used salt shakers and other items on the table to try and illustrate how the game worked.  Dad couldn’t quite get the scoring system down, and I let him know he wasn’t alone, earning me an exasperated look from Melody.

 

“And you’ve been to how many matches?  Your harem will be so disappointed.”

 

Dad looked at me and laughed.  “Your harem?”

 

This caused a complete retelling of my first Quidditch match, including Ginny’s pregnancy announcement and my red-carpet event as Harry’s stand-in, with the omission of what happened after the event.  Melody promised to send Mom the copies of _The Prophet_.  I heard a deep rumbling and looked at the clock.  _Yep, half hour._

 

“Let’s go see what he’s brought this time.”  I smirked at Dad when I stood up from the table, and he reciprocated momentarily before looking at Mom.

 

Mom looked at the clock and put her napkin down disgustedly.  “He’s going to lose his license, and how is he going sell cars then?”

 

We walked out on to the front porch in time to see Lavender and Nate close the doors on a dark green Aston-Martin.  Mom stood on the top of the porch, and she wasn’t happy.

 

“Nathaniel David!  You could have killed someone driving that fast!”

 

Nate just shook his head.  “Not with the way this thing handles.  Any breakfast left?”

 

Mom set to making a second breakfast, and she was taken aback slightly by Lavender’s request for her sausage to be undercooked.  Melody was helping with the eggs, and I was drinking a cup of coffee as Dad’s tea threshold had been crossed long ago when it hit me.

 

“Dad, have the batteries in the smoke detectors been changed lately?”

 

“Daylight savings as always, Hank.  Why?”

 

Melody turned around and shook a wooden spoon in my face.  “Hank, I swear…”

 

Nate leaned over and stage-whispered “Good thing that’s not her wand.”

 

“Your mother is giving me a Muggle cooking lesson.”  Melody shook the spoon one more time for emphasis and then turned back to the stove.

 

Nate looked over at me and laughed, and then his face became serious.  “Hey, Hank, Lavender told me you have to leave this afternoon.  Wish you could stay longer.”

 

“Bet you do, bro.”  I watched his face turn a little red while Lavender just gave me a look that said _try it_.  I couldn’t help myself, though, I wasn’t going to see him for a while.  “Like the color on the Aston-Martin.  What’s the name of that shade of green?”

 

Mom sat down and took a sip of coffee.  “It’s very pretty, Nate.  What do they call that color?”

 

Nate looked down, glanced up briefly at me and then looked down again.  “British Racing Green.”

 

“Eggs up!”  Melody brought over the skillet and spooned out scrambled eggs onto Nate and Lavender’s plates.  I watched Nate, expecting some sort of reaction from the horrible state of the eggs, but they looked perfect and he quickly tucked into his plate, which Melody soon filled with the sausages and hash browns that Mom had prepared earlier but left to warm.  Lavender’s sausages sat on the edge of the skillet, obviously undercooked, but she went after them with a somewhat disturbing relish.

 

“Harry, there’s one thing I forgot to ask you about last night.”  We all looked to Dad.  “Those things that made everything cold, the dementors you called them, what were those silvery animals that got rid of them?  I could have sworn that they looked like a giant wolf and a barn owl.”

 

“They’re called patronuses.  They’re very powerful spells, and you have to conjure them up by thinking of a very happy feeling.  The form they take depends on the witch or wizard.  Did you see the stag?  That’s my patronus, the same as my father’s.”

 

“The wolf was mine.”  I looked over to Lavender, who smiled slightly at Harry.  “I never used to be able to cast a patronus spell, even when Harry tried to teach me when we were at Hogwarts.  It was only after I became an Auror that I learned to cast the spell.”

 

“Hey Hank,” Nate said with a mouthful of eggs, “didja know that Lavender was bitten by a werewolf?”

 

“No!”  I looked over at Lavender.  “Really?”

 

“Yes, it’s true.”  She looked so calm and collected.  “It took me a long time to come to terms with it.  But I’m past that, especially as they can cure werewolf wounds somewhat now.  Plus, the wolf patronus really unnerves the bad guys.”

 

 _Wow.  I guess that’s definitely coming to grips with it.  But something stuck in my head, an owl?_   “Melody, you cast the other patronus.  When I saw yours before it was a big cat.”

 

“Panther.  It was a panther.”  She looked at me, somewhat embarrassed.  “It was always a panther before last night.”

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

Breakfast had been cleared away and we sat on the front porch in rocking chairs and in folding chairs, trying to figure out schedules for another visit.  It seemed that my calendar was going to be full with school soon, but Mom and Dad promised to visit in Scotland, possibly over Christmas.  I’d promised to write Mom letters to explain everything as much as I could.  Then I thought of how many letters that would take.

 

“Mom, that’s going to be a lot of letters, I don’t know how often I’ll be able to write.  Might just be easier to write a bunch and send them all at once.”

 

“Like a book.”  Melody looked over at me from the rocking chair to my right.  “You’re the literature person, Hank, you should just write a book.”

 

 _Write a book.  Plain as the nose on my face._   I’d always wanted to write a book, but my attempts at fiction had been, well, mediocre at best.  But this was a story that I could write, and maybe I could turn the Muggle stuff into a new textbook.  Neville would be happy with that.  And then there was my journal!  “You’re brilliant, love.”

 

A loud POP prevented Nate from commenting, and an AAB agent in blue robes walked up to the porch.  He saluted Harry, then handed him a large plastic green watering can.  “Portkey, sir.  Special arrangement with the Ministry of Magic.  Active in twenty minutes.”

 

Harry stood up and returned the salute.  “Thank you, private.  Please relay our appreciation to the Chief.”

 

The AAB agent saluted and then turned and apparated away.  His disappearance was the signal for hugs, handshakes and kisses.  I noticed Mom and Melody whispering to each other as I gave Nate a hug.

 

“Lavender, huh?”

 

“Dude.  Shut up.”

 

Dad told me to take care of myself and be good to Melody.  I assured him I would.  When I turned to Mom she had her arms open.  I hugged her for a long time and then she put me at arm’s length.

 

“Hank, you know we love you no matter what.  We’ll miss you, but I know you’re in good hands.”  She looked over to Lavender and Harry.  “I know you’ll be safe with them.”

 

“I know, Mom.  Besides, Harry’s the most famous wizard on the planet.  He defeated the biggest dark wizard of all time.”

 

Mom’s eyes were big.  “I would’ve done my hair…”

 

“He wouldn’t care, Mom.  He’s a normal guy that’s done some very extraordinary things.  I’ll send you the books.”

 

“Don’t spend all your time in books, Hank.  Hang on to her.  She’s good for you.”

 

“Yeah, she is, Mom.  She is.”

 

“Thirty seconds.”  We all looked to Harry, who was holding the slightly glowing watering can.  I touched part of the can with one hand and waved to Mom, Dad and Nate with the other, and then we were gone.

 

 

-ooo-

 

 

We all arrived at the Ministry of Magic, people and notes zooming all around, but nobody really seemed to notice.  A few minutes after our arrival we were met by Kingsley and Percy.  Lavender and Harry immediately went with them to start their report, leaving Melody and me to sit on a bench in the giant hallway.

 

“That sure beats that awful plane.”

 

“You said it, Mel.”

 

We sat there for a while and my attempts at small talk and jokes fell on deaf ears.  Melody wasn’t responding.  _Did I do something wrong?  I knew I couldn’t have misread those signs.  It wasn’t my family; she really seemed to get along great with them, especially Mom.  Maybe it was the attack from those dark idiots; maybe she was scared of it happening again without Harry and Lavender or Ron around.  Poesy Phillips strikes again, my wand is useless.  I couldn’t protect her like I should._

 

“Hank?”

 

Her voice was very quiet, and her face was blank as she looked at me.  She pulled something out of her pocket and handed it to me, and I took it from her but didn’t look at it.  I was worried about her.  I’d never seen her like this.

 

“What’s wrong, Mel?”

 

“Last night when I got you in bed I put away your clothes properly.  I found that in your pocket.”

 

I opened my hand to see a small, red velvet box.  “I think you should keep it.  Actually, I think you should wear it.”

 

“That is the absolute worst proposal in history.”

 

Her face hadn’t changed expression.  I had to change that, I needed my Melody back.

 

“Melody, I’m sorry.  I know this isn’t the way it’s really supposed to happen.  I should take you out to dinner, buy you flowers, the whole romantic thing.  I know you’re not really the biggest fan of marriage, I remember the conversation at the Leaky Cauldron.  But that doesn’t matter, that wasn’t a real marriage.  You are the first thing I think of in the morning, and I want to keep it that way.  After last night I know that if something really bad happened that I probably wouldn’t be able to protect you, but if last night proved anything it’s that I’ll do anything to keep you safe.  I know I’m a lot older than you, a hell of a lot more Muggle, and we haven’t known each other that long.  But I know when something is right, and this is right.  We’re right together.  It doesn’t matter to me that we haven’t been together that long.  My parents got married after six months, and look at them, they’ve been together forever and always will be.  I want for that to be us.  I want you to be my wife.”

 

I’d done it, as I could now read her face.  She was crying, but those were happy tears.

 

“Yes.”

 

Right there in the Ministry of Magic I kissed her for all that I was worth.  When we broke apart she leaned into my chest and I held her as tightly as I could without hurting her.  I never wanted to hurt her.

 

“Hank?”

 

“Yes, love?”

 

“Can I have the ring now?  It’s gorgeous.  It also fits perfectly.”

 

I looked down to see her face smiling up at me.  “So you tried it on?”

 

“Of course.”

 

I’m not sure how long we sat on the bench, but we were brought back to reality by Hermione’s voice.

 

“There you are!  Harry said you were back, but that was it.  How was your trip?

 

I looked over at Melody, who just grinned like an idiot.  “Pretty good.  My brother got married, Melody met my family, I got stinking drunk the night before the wedding and landed face first into Lavender’s boobs…”

 

“Pardon me?”  Hermione looked at me as if she was about to burst.

 

“Oh yeah, Hermione” Melody continued, “right smack in the middle of the girls.”

 

Hermione looked over to Melody but I started in before she could say anything.  “Mel was really hacked off about that one.”

 

“But I got over it.”  She shrugged as if it was nothing at all.  “The wedding was very nice, but later that night we were attacked by the WLF and some American anti-Muggle group…”

 

“Knights of the Wand.”

 

“Right, then.” Melody kept going as she saw Hermione begin to say something.  “But Harry and the American Aurors took care of them.  Hank actually cast a spell that protected his niece, very effective.”

 

 _I thought for a millisecond about the two dark wizards who I had dispatched, then banished them.  They’d never haunt me again, not now._   “I got lucky.  Don’t know what I did and I’ll probably never be able to do it again.  Dementors showed up and Lavender and Melody did the patronus thing and chased them away.  Oh yeah, Mel’s patronus is now an owl.”

 

“I like it, I think it’s cute.  Let me see, oh Hank’s family know he’s sort of a wizard now…am I missing anything?”

 

“I’m pretty sure my brother Nate shagged Lavender.”

 

“Definitely.”

 

We looked at each other out of the corner of our eyes, and then watched Madam Undersecretary Weasley finally have a chance to form a sentence.  “I can’t believe it.  And you two, you’re acting like it was a walk in the park?  You could have been killed!”

 

“Well that obviously didn’t happen.”  I watched Hermione’s face go into a mask of irritation, so I changed tactics.  “How’s my house coming along?  Can we move in yet?”

 

Hermione rolled her eyes, not believing that I’d had the gall to ask.  “I told you it would be ready Hank, and…wait.  We?”

 

Melody lifted up her hand, and my Gran’s ring, now her ring, sparkled in the light.

 

A lot of things happen in the hallways at the Ministry of Magic, people arriving by Floo in the dozens doesn’t cause a blip, but when Madam Undersecretary Weasley girl screams at a volume like that, well, then people tend to notice.  I just waved at the witches and wizards as two of my favorite witches hugged and cried.

 

 

-ooo- -ooo- -ooo- -ooo-

 

 

It was almost noon, and I’d been working in my office for most of the morning; the day so far had been a mixture of classic Sixties Stax/Volt R&B and old blues.  Melody had decided that all Muggle music wasn’t bad, but I couldn’t get her to appreciate the Ramones or AC/DC.  She had no idea how pleased I was when she’d put on a Big Star CD one day.  At the moment my enjoyment of James Brown’s Apollo theater performance was interrupted as I looked up to watch some birds who had decided, rather noisily, to squabble outside of my office window.  One thing good about living in Stintborough was that if you were a bird watcher you were in heaven.  The only bird that I was interested in that day, though, was Calliope.  I’d written Neville about something we’d discussed briefly in earlier letters, but I’d have confirmation back today.

 

“Bloody hell.  HANK!”

 

I got up from my desk to find Melody in the spare room, which she was currently using as her home office.  At the moment she was staring at the laptop computer I’d given her, shaking her head.

 

“This thing is worse than a damn Quick Quotes Quill.”

 

“Language, Gwennie.”

 

“Sod off.  I mean, honestly, I haven’t been able to get more than a paragraph done.  How do you do it so fast?”

 

I sat down on the bed next to the desk.  “Well, I’ve been doing it for years.  People don’t learn to type very well right away, it takes practice.”

 

“All of your Muggle things take practice.  I don’t have time; this has to go out soon.”

 

She shut the lid of the laptop a little harder than was really necessary, but I knew by now to leave it alone.  I remembered the whole bookmark incident from last week and figured it was easier to hold my tongue.

 

“And Ginny and Hermione won’t leave me alone about the wedding.  And JoJo?”  She shook her head.  “Let’s just pull a George and Angelina.”

 

“Your Mom would lose it if we did that.”

 

“Mum’s mental anyway.  I still can’t believe after everything that’s happened she wants the wedding at her house.  And did you see the pictures of the dresses she’s sent over?  I’d look like something in Honeydukes’ window, only shorter and with glasses.”

 

“I don’t care if you’re starkers.”

 

“Yes, I know your preference.”  She shook her head.  “Besides, I probably won’t be able to fit into anything.  I’ve been gaining weight.  Do you actually know how to cook any food that isn’t fried or fattening?’

 

“Not really.”

 

She stood up and gave the laptop a withering look.  “Bugger it, I’m using a quill.”

 

She left the room to go find a quill in my office, so I decided to go make a cup of tea.  While waiting for the kettle to sing I saw Calliope come sailing in and land on the little ledge I’d put outside the kitchen window.  I opened a pane, and my owl gently stepped inside.  I took the letter from her and stroked her feathers, speaking softly to her about how she’s such a good owl.  After taking the letter recognized Neville’s handwriting and I sat down at the kitchen table.

 

Before I could open the letter I heard a distinctive POP outside.  Melody walked past, quill in hand, said “Lavender” then continued on to her office.  I got up and went to the little shelf where we kept the mail and sorted through until I saw Nate’s horrible scrawl.  With the letter in hand I walked to the front door, and the knock came quickly.

 

I opened the door.  “Lavender.”

 

“Hank.”

 

I handed her the letter and she walked a few steps then Apparated away.

 

I looked to where she used to be standing.  “I love our little talks, Lavender.”  After closing the door I went back to the kitchen and opened the letter.  It was what I’d hoped for, but with something else.

 

“MEL!”

 

“What?”

 

“Come hear this.”

 

Melody walked in, irritated.  “I swear I’ll never get that press release done.  I have to get it in or Gwennog will kill me.  It’s not every day that the most famous player in the history of the Harpies retires.  This better be good.”  She sat down quickly, but only on the edge of her seat.

 

“Well, it’s from Neville.”

 

“So surprising.  I’d swear if we weren’t engaged I’d worry about the two of you.  All of the owls…”

 

“I know, I keep trying to get him to get a phone, but nothing works in Hogwarts.  Anyway, he’s talked to the right people, and they’ve agreed to publish my books.  The textbook won’t be ready for approval until next year, but they’re going to publish the other one.”

 

She leaned over and kissed me.  “Oh Hank, that’s great.  Have they decided on a title yet?”

 

“No,” I shook my head, “they’re still working on that.  They wanted to use _My Wand is Useless_ , but I don’t want to give Poesy the satisfaction.  She’s still going to be in my class, and hopefully the internship with George has straightened her out.  Anyway, right now they’re thinking _My Life Amongst the Wizards_ or _1.3%:  A Muggle of Sorts_.  Not sure if I like either of them.”

 

“I don’t like those, you’ll think of something better.”  She stood up a bit and kissed me.  “I have to get this done, sorry.  But congratulations.  Now Mum won’t think you’re just after my money.”

 

“No, just your body.”  She gave me a look that would have scared half of the first years to death.  “There’s something else, Mel.  Slake’s leaving Hogwarts.”

 

“Another new Defense teacher?  Merlin’s pants, that job _is_ cursed.”

 

“I dunno, might be.  Slake was Head of House for Hufflepuff, remember?”

 

“Yeah, I still don’t know how that happened.  Famous Hufflepuff loyalty, probably.”  She paused for a second.  “So who’s the new Head of House, did Neville say?”

 

“Yes, yes he did.  You know him.”

 

She stood there a second, going over a mental list of possible Hufflepuff heads.  “I know him?”

 

“Yep.  Sleep with him every night.”

 

“Oh sweetie, I’m so proud of you!”  After a big kiss, she smiled down at me.  “I think you need a tattoo.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the first year down for Professor Hank Boyd. What happens next? Find out in Professor Muggle: Year 2.


End file.
